Dirty Laundry
by JamiW
Summary: This is the fourth in "Free" series. Previous installments include - in order - Free, The Corridor, and The Message Job. These are casefile/romance fics with heavy B/A and M/C. If you haven't read the others, you should probably start at the beginning
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story begins late November, approximately one month post-The Message Job. Also, there is very little backstory that I could find on Barek, so I took the liberty of creating my own.

* * *

**Logan POV**

* * *

I hadn't seen her for three days, so when she finally came through the door, I pounced.

She had her arms full – briefcase, duffle bag, keys. But she dropped everything and returned my enthusiastic greeting.

"I won't ask if you missed me," she said as I plastered her against the front door.

"Phone sex just isn't the same," I growled, pulling at the edges of her coat and dragging it down her arms. She laughed.

"Mike, you could let me get into the house. I won't be opposed to you mauling me in the living room."

"I want to maul you in the foyer," I countered. "And then the living room. And then the bedroom. You've been gone for more than seventy-two hours. I've got some catching up to do."

Despite her mild protesting, she was on board with it. She helped me by dropping her coat to the floor and stepping out of her shoes. It dropped her down a few inches, but I had no problem with that. I reached behind her head and pulled the hair band out of her hair, letting her dark curls fall out onto her shoulders. I love her hair. I ran my fingers through it and she closed her eyes in appreciation.

"I definitely missed you," she hummed as she reached up to unbutton my shirt. The glint of silver caught my eye and I grabbed her hand.

"You wore it."

"Of course I did. Did you think I wouldn't?" A wedding band. After our unofficial wedding in Boston, I had decided to buy rings. Last week I had picked out bands for both of us and I gave it to her just before she went to North Carolina on business.

"I wasn't sure," I admitted.

"I'll never take it off. I love that you thought to do it. Usually it's the guy who doesn't want people to know he's off the market."

"Babe, I am so far off the market…" I didn't want to talk anymore. I'd already done more of that than I'd planned, but my pleasure at seeing that band on her finger had gotten me sidetracked.

"You know what I'd like?" I asked suddenly.

"What?"

"I'd like to see you in nothing but that wedding band."

Carolyn was a headstrong woman and she did things her own way. Sometimes we butted heads and lots of times I managed to piss her off. But she never denied me anything when it came to our sex life. In fact, she had come up with some ideas that even I hadn't thought of, and that's saying something.

"Have you talked to Bobby and Alex today?" she asked as she slipped out of her black silk slacks. I was mesmerized.

"Can we not talk about them right now?"

"What do you want to talk about?" she teased, opening her blouse to reveal a red satin bra.

"You wore that just for me, didn't you?" I asked, completely ignoring her question. I was on a mission and would not be diverted.

"Maybe," she replied coyly. I reached out a hand to rub the fabric.

"It's nice, but it goes, too."

She complied and within moments it was just Carolyn and her long dark hair and her shiny silver ring.

"Do not go away again," I said as I pulled her tightly against me. I wanted her so bad that it was actually physically painful. But I also loved her desperately. It was a frightening combination, and a new experience for me, but I welcomed it.

"Next time, you come with me," she whispered.

"Count on it," I promised, picking her up suddenly and carrying her into the kitchen. "But I changed my mind about the foyer."

An hour later, after my ego was soaring from hearing her sing, or rather shout, my praises, we settled back on the couch together. It was nearly ten o'clock.

"So did you say you talked to Alex and Bobby lately?" she asked. She was snuggled against my side and had her feet curled up under her.

"Goren called me this morning. They were finishing up a case."

"That councilman thing?"

"Yeah. They've been on that twenty-four seven. Goren told me that they're probably going to take a few days off after they finish up the paperwork. I would imagine they're done by now."

"Oh, well that's nice. They need a little time. It's been pretty crazy around there, from what Alex has said."

"When did you talk to her?"

"I called her on my way to the airport Monday night. I wanted to tell her about the rings."

"You did?"

"It's not a secret, Mike. And I am a girl. I wanted to share the news with a friend."

"You're not a _girl_," I told her suggestively, running my hand over her hip. She chuckled and put her hand on mine.

"She was jealous, I think."

"Of the ring? Yeah, I guess she would be. It probably wouldn't work well for those two to stroll into 1PP sporting wedding rings."

"Well, maybe one of these days…" she trailed off and we sat together in quiet for a few minutes.

"So how did the case go?" I asked her. Man, I had it bad. I wanted her to talk just so that I could hear the sound of her voice.

And the case was interesting. She had called me every night while she was gone, so I was familiar with the basics.

"It was fine," she said. She had other things on her mind. "You know, I meant what I said earlier," she told me. "You should come to work with me. The business is getting big enough to keep us both busy."

"You mean quit working for Deakins?"

"Yeah."

"Honey, I appreciate the thought, but I don't have your kind of mind."

"Don't sell yourself short, Mike. You just have a different kind of smarts. You didn't spend twenty-some years on the job for nothing."

It was something to think about. I was surprised she wanted to work with me and live with me. I knew Goren and Eames were able to pull that off, but I wasn't sure anyone would be happy spending twenty-four hours a day with me.

"Give it some thought, okay?" she asked. Her cell phone started ringing from its spot in the foyer.

"Do you need to get that?" I asked.

"I guess," she said, standing up. I watched her appreciatively as she strolled from the room to retrieve her phone.

She brought the phone into the living room and spoke for a few minutes. Something to do with the case, I gathered.

There was a man, Pete Walker, missing from his home in Asheville, North Carolina and that was where she had been the past few days. She was trying to help the local police with leads on his whereabouts. It was unusual for her to get called out of state on a missing person case, but an old friend was the commander for the West Asheville District. He had called in a favor.

And it's possible that the idea of her spending three days with an 'old friend' is what had me so worked up when she got home. And happy that she was wearing the ring. It's not that I don't trust Carolyn, because I do.

I just don't trust every other schmuck out there.

"Was that Lt. Quarles?" I asked when she hung up.

"Yeah," she sighed. "They found their guy."

"Dead, I'm guessing?"

"Uh huh. About two days dead. He was in the Pisgah National Forest."

"Is that where you told them he'd be?" Carolyn was good, very good at her job. And if she came home, it was because she had thoroughly analyzed all of the evidence and given them a fairly specific area to search.

"Yeah."

But I could tell by the look on her face that there was more.

"And?" I prompted.

"Jack said that another guy has gone missing." Jack. I ignored that. Of course she would call him by his first name. They were stationed together in Cuba.

See, a little known fact about Carolyn is that she used to be in the Marine Corps. And she was in during a time when it wasn't all that cool for a woman to join the Marines. But she was always looking for a challenge and she had been a little troubled in high school, so it was a good fit for her. She did a four-year stint with the Corps and then went on to college.

The FBI had actively recruited her straight out of college. She spent a few years with them before taking a job with the NYPD. The FBI was still hot to try to get her back, but she hated it. The two years she spent with them after 9-11 had validated the decision for her, and she had hustled back to the Department. Of course, now she was her own boss and that seemed to be the best fit of all.

So after all of the people she met through the Bureau and the NYPD, at college and in the Marine Corps, it's possible that it bugged me a little that she took on a simple missing person case just for _Jack_. And it's possible that I have a jealous streak a mile wide.

"Another guy was reported missing today?" I asked, getting over my pettiness and sitting up a little straighter. Asheville was a decent-sized city, but two men missing within less than a week of each other? And the first one already found dead? Something wasn't right.

"His name is Scott Hannigan. He was the dead guy's roommate," she said, and I could tell that her brain was already off and running. She was going to go back to Asheville.

"I'll come with you," I told her before she even said the words. Damn, I've been hanging around Goren and Eames too much. I'm starting to pick up on their method of silent conversation.

"You will?"

"Sure. I'll tell Deakins I need a week."

"You've been taking a lot of time the last couple of months."

"Yeah, but he'll be okay with it."

"You're not going because of Jack, are you?" she asked. _See?_ Smart.

"No, I'm going because if we're thinking about working together permanently, we can call this a trial run."

"Okay. Good," she said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I'll book us a flight for first thing in the morning. You know, if the roommate is missing now, too…"

"Then Pete Walker probably knew something he shouldn't. And they've taken his roommate to make sure whatever it is doesn't get out."

"See, Mike? You are smart," she said with a smile. I laughed, mostly because her words echoed almost exactly what had just gone through my head about her.

Her cell phone alerted her to a text message. She flipped it open and then her face went pale.

"What is it?" I asked, hopping up from the sofa.

"It's a…um…it's a threat…I think."

"A threat?" _What the fuck?_ I took the phone from her outstretched hand.

It was a text message: _Don't come back, or you're dead_.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

* * *

It was after ten and my eyes were bleary from overuse. Bobby and I had been working nonstop for a month straight. Okay, not a month. But nearly a week anyway.

All because a councilman had to wake up next to a dead hooker.

"Figure it out, Detectives," Ross had said. "But don't step on any toes."

_Yeah, because city officials are always so forthcoming_. Whatever. It worked out. The councilman hadn't killed the girl, but of course, he was still busted with his wife, so he took that out on us. I was starting to appreciate why Mike took a swing at one years ago.

So, as the clock neared ten-thirty, and I crossed the last T on our paperwork, I looked across the desks at Bobby.

"Can we please go home?" He gave me a tired smile. I didn't have to wonder if he had been missing me as much as I'd missed him. Because working together and having time off together were just not the same thing. And like I said, all we'd been doing lately was working together.

"I told Ross we'd be back on Monday," he said as he packed up his binder. It was Thursday.

"If he's lucky," I replied. "Maybe a week from Monday. Because I need to sleep for about three days, and then there are some other things I need to catch up on," I added with a pointed look.

He looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. No one was.

"So we have to sleep first? Are you sure?" He started toward the elevator and I followed quickly. "It's been so long..."

"It's possible I could be persuaded, if given the right stimuli," I whispered as the doors came open. We took one step inside and then stopped.

Bobby cell phone rang. We stepped back into the hall.

"You know, I'm really starting to hate cell phones," I muttered. "We can't even _think_ about having sex without one of them ringing."

"It's Logan," Bobby said before answering the phone. _Of course it's Mike._ He had as much of a knack for interrupting things as the cells.

I watched while he listened, not saying a word.

"What?" Bobby asked suddenly, his face full of concern.

"What is it?" I asked. He waved me toward our desks and pointed at my computer. I powered it back on.

"When was this? Okay, I'll get back with you." He hung up and looked at me.

"Pull the records for Carolyn's cell phone. She just got a text message that was a death threat."

We had jumped on the records too fast for it to show the number. The last time-stamped record was for an incoming call at 9:15. We would have to wait a little longer for the text message to pop.

I shut down my laptop and took it with us. I hadn't planned on taking work home with me, but this wasn't work. This was personal.

We got to Mike and Carolyn's place at eleven-thirty.

"So give us the details," I said as I set down my computer and turned it on.

Carolyn told us about the case in Asheville and about the subsequent phone call and text message.

"So this Lt. Quarles," I began. "You know him personally?" I didn't mean that in a bad way, but Mike whipped his head around to look at Carolyn, waiting for her response. _Interesting_.

"We were stationed together at Guantanamo Bay back in the eighties. I haven't spoken with him much since then, beyond a random Christmas card or email. He did the full twenty before he got out, and now he's with the Asheville PD."

"Stationed together? You were in the military?" Bobby asked.

"Marine Corps from '84-'88. Intelligence," she stated. _Of course_.

"But my point is," I continued. "You don't think Quarles could be involved, do you? I mean, who else would have even considered you might come back?"

"I don't know. It wasn't a secret that I was down there. I think it may have been reported in the paper even, but only as part of a larger article about the search efforts. And I'm not sure if they mentioned me by name."

"We need to check that out. If not, it would limit the possibilities of involvement."

"So you don't think we're going to get anything from the phone records," Mike said.

"Doubtful. That would be pretty stupid to send a death threat from a traceable phone."

I accessed the database anyway, and made another pass at the phone records. The text was listed, so I cross-checked the number.

"It's a drop phone," I confirmed. "Prepaid cell."

"Can you tell where it was purchased?" Bobby asked.

"Cherokee, North Carolina. Last week."

"Really?" Carolyn asked in surprise.

"Why? Does that mean something?"

"The first guy, Pete Walker. He was an employee at Harrah's Casino in Cherokee until the day before he disappeared. I went down there and talked to some of his co-workers."

"I think we'll be going back," I said.

"We? You guys don't have to come. You just finished up that big case. Besides, we don't even know what's going on here yet."

"We're off until Monday," Bobby said. "We'll go down for a couple of days and see how things play out."

We left their house an hour or so later and went home. We had to pack and get some rest and then we were going to meet them at JFK in the morning.

"Did you notice how tense Mike got when I asked Carolyn about Lt. Quarles?" I asked as he unlocked his door. I kept my back to Bobby with my eyes trained on our surroundings. The memory of Dino coming out of the apartment across the hall was still just a little too fresh in my mind.

"I did. I'm going to have to ask him about that. Do you think he's an old boyfriend?"

"Does it matter?" I asked once we were inside. "She's with Mike now. They're married, for all intents and purposes. What difference would it make?"

"She made a special trip down to help him with an investigation. She spent three days with him."

"You wouldn't be okay with it if it were me?"

"You mean if that guy from OCCB called you up and wanted you to work a case with him?"

I rolled my eyes. Two months ago I briefly mention having gone on one date with the guy. Leave it to Bobby to bring that up.

"Never mind," I said. "I think I have my answer."

I walked away from him and went into the kitchen.

"Eames," he called before following. I stopped and turned around with my hands on my hips. For some reason, I was starting to get irritated.

"Eames? Are we still at work, Goren?" I asked smartly.

"I'm sorry…no…Alex…I just…we've been working so much lately and…" His eyes were focused on the floor. The wind went out of my sails at the sight of him struggling. There was no reason for me to be mad.

"Bobby," I said on a sigh. "I'm sorry. I think I'm just tired."

"I wasn't trying to say that I wouldn't trust you," he clarified. He approached me and put his hands on my face. "I was only saying that I can understand why Logan was uncomfortable with her spending time with another man, one who might know things about her that he doesn't know."

It was amazing how eloquent the man could be when he wasn't upset.

"We all have pasts, Bobby. It's not something we can let get in the way of our lives now."

He stepped even closer to me and kissed me. I leaned into him and enjoyed the moment, having had too few of them lately.

"Let's go to bed. We'll get up in time to pack," he said, taking a step back from me and holding out his hand. I took it and we went down the hall.

"So just so we're clear," he said as he shed his suit and climbed into bed. "If Lola called and needed to meet me for a business dinner, then that would be perfectly fine with you."

"Am I invited to this hypothetical business dinner?" I asked, climbing into beside him. Lucky for him, I knew he was teasing me.

"Well…ah…no."

"Then over my dead body."

"That's what I thought," he grinned.

* * *

We landed in Asheville at noon on Friday. We picked up the keys for the rental car and went outside. It was very cold, so I immediately zipped up my leather jacket.

"Any word from Lt. Quarles?" I asked once I was settled behind the wheel.

"I got a text from him before we left New York. He's going to meet us at the victim's apartment," Carolyn said.

"Still no sign of Scott Hannigan?"

"Not as far as I know. They were going to comb the Pisgah this morning."

I drove us to the apartment on Bear Creek Drive. The four of us got out, bracing ourselves against the bitter wind. It had been cold in New York, but not like this. I'm not sure why I expected North Carolina to be warmer just because it was further south. The mountains pretty much negated that theory.

"Barek," a man called out from across the lot. It was obviously Lt. Quarles and he strode purposefully toward us. I wondered if it made Logan feel better to know that Quarles called her by her last name. Probably not.

"Jack," she said, shaking his hand. "I brought some help. Let me make some quick introductions and then you can get us up to speed. These are New York Detectives Bobby Goren and Alex Eames. They had a few days off and thought they would give me a hand. And this is my business partner and husband, Mike Logan."

_Good girl, Carolyn_, I thought. She had promptly squashed any potential conflict or male posturing with that one quick introduction. Or so I thought. Quarles still carefully sized Mike up as he shook each of our hands in turn. My protectiveness of Logan kicked in and I instantly disliked the guy just on principle.

With the introductions over, we followed Quarles out of the cold and into the lobby of the building.

"I'm sorry, but it looks like maybe y'all made this trip for nothing. We found Scott Hannigan's body while you were en route, about three hours ago," he told us.

"In Pisgah?" Carolyn asked. He nodded.

"What was the cause of death?" Bobby asked.

"It's a suicide. Drug overdose, maybe. We won't be sure until the coroner looks at him. That'll probably be later on this afternoon."

"If you're not sure of the cause of death, then how do you know it's a suicide?" I asked.

Quarles opened up a file folder and pulled out a document encased in plastic. Logan grabbed it.

"He left a note?"

"That's what it looks like," he replied in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"He confesses to killing Pete Walker," Bobby said, reading the note over Logan's shoulder. "Do you have photos?"

Quarles gave Bobby the crime scene photos and he began to pace the area while looking them over.

"But then why would someone send me a threat?" Carolyn asked. "That doesn't make sense."

"Unless it was Scott Hannigan that sent it to you. Maybe he was afraid you were on to him."

"But I'd already left."

"Who knows?" Quarles said with a shrug. "Maybe it wasn't even from someone down here. Maybe it was from another case."

"The phone traced back to Cherokee," I asserted. "It has something to do with this case. And it doesn't make sense for a guy to send a death threat just before killing himself."

I was starting to lose my patience with this Quarles guy. His indifference toward the facts was downright annoying, not to mention his continued leering at Carolyn even after her pointed introduction of Mike.

"Scott Hannigan didn't write this note," Bobby said suddenly.

"How in the hell can you tell that from a picture?" Quarles asked. I bristled.

"Because that's what we do, Lieutenant. We look at evidence and solve crimes," I said sharply.

"The person who wrote this note was right-handed," Bobby continued. "You can tell by the angle of the script. And the pen was felt-tip and a left-handed person usually ends up smudging the ink a little when writing with a felt-tip pen, but there's no evidence of that here."

"Okay. But how do you know Hannigan wasn't right-handed? The majority of people are, you know."

"He's wearing his watch on his right wrist. People usually wear their watches on their non-dominant hand."

Quarles shook his head dismissively and reached out in an effort to take the photos from Bobby's hand. Bobby took a step back.

"So just because…" Quarles began.

"Let him finish," Logan interrupted. He rose to his full height and took a step closer to Quarles. I did, too, even though somehow I didn't come off quite so intimidating.

But together we got the point across. Quarles backed down.

"I'm guessing he's a hunter, right? Into guns?" Bobby asked, waiting for confirmation from Quarles. He slowly nodded his head.

"A lot of people in this part of the country are."

"Bear season just finished up. His left index finger is calloused. It's caused by the repeated pulling of a trigger. Hannigan was left-handed."

"So someone wanted me to think that Hannigan killed Walker and then himself?"

"And they knew you'd believe it," I said. I still didn't like this guy and now it was for more than just loyalty to Mike. "That's why they also threatened Carolyn, telling her to stay away. If it was left up to you, someone would be getting away with murder."

"So what do you think, guys?" Carolyn asked. She casually placed herself between Quarles and Logan, but kept her back to Quarles. I felt a little bad that I was being somewhat hostile towards her old friend, but he had it coming.

"I think if Lt. Quarles wants our help, we can stick around for awhile and see what we can find. I'd like to go down to Cherokee and talk to the Harrah's employees. And I want to see if we can track down that phone to a specific place of purchase," Bobby said.

"And I'd like to search the apartment. We need to do an extensive background search on both men. Now that there are two, we can cross-check to see what they had in common other than being roommates," I added.

"Mike?" Carolyn asked.

"Yeah, I'm in. I want to find out who sent you that text," he said.

"And it's not like this thing will get solved without us," he added under his breath. I heard him, but I'm not sure anyone else did. I chucked him with my elbow, but gave him a grin.

This was going to be an interesting weekend.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Barek POV**

* * *

I couldn't decide if it had been a good decision to bring Mike along on this trip or not. I mean, I _wanted_ him with me. And I wanted him to not feel threatened by Jack. But I hadn't anticipated the high level of alpha-maleness that they were both exhibiting after the introductions were made.

I was a little annoyed with Jack for how he acted. I told him on my first trip down to Asheville that I was married. Actually, I even told him that when he first called to ask me to take on the consultation. I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. I even left out the part that the marriage wasn't officially legal.

Because at one point, we _had_ had a sexual relationship. A brief, torrid affair that ended badly. But that was nearly twenty years ago, and I thought we had both matured. Apparently I was the only one who had matured, because the way he was sizing up Mike made it seem as though he still felt he had some kind of claim to me. He didn't.

After the four of us made the decision to look further into these murders, Jack took us upstairs to show us to the victims' apartment. I had been in there before, questioning Scott Hannigan, but I hadn't gotten to look at things so closely.

A quick glance around the living room was all it took to know that something was amiss. The place had been worked over.

"Your men have already been here?" I asked Jack.

"No. They're all still out in Pisgah. I called to let them know you guys would be handling this aspect." I tilted my head and looked at him in surprise.

"So Asheville PD is not coming?"

"We're low on manpower right now. Since you're here, we don't need them here." _Hmmm_. That was a little strange.

"So this is how you found the place?" I asked for clarification.

"That's right."

The four of us split up and looked over the apartment. Alex took over the laptop and Bobby checked out the bookshelves. Mike headed for Pete's room and I went to Scott's. Jack wandered around, watching us more than anything.

"This hard drive has been wiped clean," Alex called from the living room.

"There are no personal effects. It's completely sterilized," Bobby added.

"Hey, check this out," Mike called from Pete's room. Bobby and I joined him where he was standing in front of the dresser. Jack followed.

"You found something?" Jack asked. Mike gave him a hard stare before deliberately turning to me.

"Three fifty-dollar bills, jammed in behind the desk drawer."

"Not _in_ the drawer?" I questioned.

"There was nothing in the drawer. Completely empty," he replied as he pulled out an evidence bag and slid the money in. Quarles held out his hand, but Mike stuck it in his jacket pocket.

"We'll keep this with the copy of the case file you're going to give us," Mike told him. The tension in the room was just getting ridiculous.

"You need to get your CSU guys in this place, Jack," I said. "It's obvious our perps have already been through this apartment."

"Perps? As in more than one?"

"That should be the working theory. Kidnapping two men, killing them both but neither of them showing signs of a struggle - sounds like at least two to me," Bobby said. I nodded.

"You going to call CSU?" I asked Jack again since he hadn't moved towards his phone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm on it."

"Good. We'll check in with you later. We're going to go find a hotel."

We left the apartment and headed for Cherokee. It was going to be dark soon and I wanted to make that hour-long back-roads drive before then.

"What is that guy's story?" Mike asked me once we were on the road. He used that slow deliberate way of his that spoke volumes.

My first reaction was to be defensive of Jack, but then I realized that Mike was right. For a lieutenant in the police department and a retired Marine Gunnery Sergeant, he was coming across as awfully inept. And the looks he kept giving me were bordering on sleezy.

"I don't know, Mike. Maybe he's just gotten used to being complacent. They only have a handful of murders here each year."

"Did you sleep with him?" Mike asked me in a low tone. I looked toward the front seat, but Bobby and Alex were in their own quiet conversation. Reluctantly, I met Mike's eyes. It wasn't like I'd planned to hide it, but it was twenty years ago. Did it really matter? It did to Mike.

"Yes," I replied and he blew out a frustrated breath and moved marginally away from me. "Mike, it was a long time ago. I had just gotten out and I was having trouble adjusting to civilian life. He came to visit me while he was on leave. It was…"

"Stop," he said sharply. "I don't want to know details."

"A mistake is what I was going to say," I replied. Now I was getting pissed. This was just great. He was going to be mad at me for something that happened when I was twenty-two?

"He was married, I was stupid, and the whole thing was a mistake. If you want to be pissed at me for that, then fine. But you're being an idiot."

"I'm being an idiot? Don't tell me he didn't hit on you while you were down here."

"Can we talk about this later? We're trying to solve a couple of murders."

"I think we've got a little time," he snapped back. "Hey Eames! How far to Cherokee?"

I saw Alex glance nervously in the mirror, her eyes catching mine in understanding.

"Twenty minutes," she said. And then she quickly added, "So what do you think about the apartment being cleaned out? Do you think Hannigan did it after Walker disappeared, or do you think the killers did it?"

"Why did Quarles call you for a consultation?" Bobby asked suddenly. I'm not sure, but I think Alex slugged him in the leg.

"Yeah, Carolyn. Why did he?" Logan asked. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I felt a headache coming on.

"He told me that he needed help. The story was getting a lot of media coverage and the pressure to find Pete Walker was intense. His chief wanted him to bring in some experts from the Bureau, but Jack didn't want the case to be taken over. He remembered that I was in the business, so he called."

Bobby nodded. Mike kept staring at me. I wanted to get out of this car so that I could yell at him in private, but I couldn't just yet, so I held my tongue. For now.

"What was Walker doing with a hundred and fifty dollars jammed in his dresser? All evidence shows that he lived hand-to-mouth," Alex said.

"I don't know but we need to find out," Bobby replied. "Mike, you and I should go over to the casino tonight."

"Good idea," Alex added. "Carolyn and I can try to track down that cell phone. Do we have a list of all of Harrah's employees?"

"It should be in the file."

"Okay, then we can go talk to some of them in their homes."

I knew what Alex and Bobby were doing. They were trying to help by keeping me and Mike apart for a little bit. But I didn't want to be apart from him. I wanted to throttle him and then I wanted to throw him down on the bed. As much as his jealousy irked me, it also made me hot.

"Let's check into the hotel first. We can grab a quick bite to eat and then get started," I said, looking pointedly at Mike. He was still worked up. This was going to be good.

There was a Fairfield Inn across from Harrah's that better suited our budget, so we checked into two rooms. We left Alex and Bobby in the hall with the promise to meet up again in an hour.

I followed Mike into the room and then slammed the door behind me. He whirled around and met my glare.

"You've got a lot of damn nerve," I started.

"Why? 'Cause it pisses me off to know that you fucked that asshole?"

I put my hands on his chest and shoved him. Hard. He took a step back and I stepped up closer.

"It was _twenty _years ago," I ground out, jabbing my finger at his chest. "Do you want to make me a list of all the women you slept with over the past twenty years, just so that I'll know if we ever run into one? I have no doubt your list would be a lot longer than mine."

Mike stood there with his hands on his hips and I watched as his anger dissolved. He ran a hand over his face and looked to the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," he said. "God, I just started thinking about him touching you and it made me a little crazy."

"A little?"

"A lot," he admitted with a wry grin. He put his hands on my hips and pulled me to him. "I don't want anyone else touching you. Ever."

"Anybody ever tell you you're a hothead?" I asked. I wasn't going to persecute him for his reaction. It was fairly normal for a passionate guy like Mike.

"Every day of my life, sweetheart. Are we good?"

"We're good." I pulled his head down so that I could reach his lips. I kissed him hard, pressing my body tightly against his. My enthusiasm must have caught him off guard, because he stumbled back a couple of steps and wound up sitting on the bed. I took advantage of the situation and pushed him the rest of the way back, climbing up to straddle him.

"Jealousy gets you hot?" he asked when I stopped kissing him so that I could pull off his clothes.

"Maybe," I replied coyly. But oh did it ever. I couldn't get his pants off of him fast enough. He laid back, put his hands behind his head and grinned, letting me strip him down.

"Don't get too smug there," I warned. "You've got work to do."

And he performed beautifully. He went about marking me as his own, clearly wanting to make sure I knew exactly how good I had it with him. I think I screamed to God in about three different languages, none of them English.

We finished and dressed with five minutes to spare. I was glad that Alex and Bobby were down the hall rather than next door. Otherwise, I just know that Bobby would be looking up to see exactly what _mas rapido_ means.

"We don't have to do this," I told Mike just before we left the room.

"Stay on this case? Somebody threatened you. I'm not going anywhere until I find out who."

"And we're okay? Working with Quarles?"

"As long as he keeps his mitts off of you, we'll be fine. If he touches you, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Fair enough."

I grabbed my things off the dresser and my cell phone beeped in my hand. I glanced at it quickly, assuming it was Alex telling us to hurry up. It wasn't.

"Mike." The tone of my voice stopped him cold. He turned back to me and I held up my phone. It was another text.

_I warned you. Now you're dead_.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"Bobby," Alex said when she came back to the room. She had gone to get us some sodas from the machine.

"Yeah?"

"You know Spanish, right?"

"Some. Why?"

"What does _mas rapido_ mean?"

"Why?"

"I think they're still fighting. I'm pretty sure that's what Carolyn was yelling when I passed the room. It must get frustrating to fight with someone that resorts to another language."

I started laughing and pulled her into my arms.

"I don't think they're fighting anymore," I said.

"Why? What does that mean?"

I leaned down close so that I could whisper into her ear.

"Do it faster." I started kissing along her neck, moving her hair to give me better access. "How much longer before we have to meet them?"

"About twenty minutes. But I'm guessing they're going to be a little late."

"We can be late, too," I suggested, running my hand down her back and pulling her flush against me.

I hadn't really been in the mood when we first checked in. I mean, it's not that I _wasn't_ in the mood, but rather that I just hadn't considered it. My brain was trying to wrap itself around this case, and I was also thinking about Logan and Barek.

And now that I was thinking about Logan and Barek in a completely different way, I'm embarrassed to admit that it had started my motor running.

I don't even want to stop and analyze that. It's probably just because it had been so long since Alex and I had been together. Work had completely taken over our lives and when we weren't working, we were sleeping.

So now it had been four days and that was just unacceptable. We had to learn how to take advantage of every moment of down time available to us.

"Well?" I asked as I worked my hands under her sweater. "Can I interest you in a quickie?"

Alex laughed. "I don't think you know to be quick, Bobby. You're much too…focused."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Absolutely not. It is the highest form of compliment," she said as she reached for my belt buckle. "And if you want to be focused for the next fifteen minutes, I'm all yours."

We hurried to undress, not wanting to waste a minute of precious time. I had thought she was in the mood for frantic and sweaty, because really, Alex usually is, but this time she pulled me down onto her and held me tight.

"Talk to me," she said as I ran my hands over her body.

See, Alex likes to yell a lot when we're having sex, but I'd learned that when we're making love, she likes me to talk.

She closed her eyes and I took a second just to look at her. She literally took my breath away.

"Je t'aime," I whispered as I entered her slowly. I moved leisurely, our time limit forgotten for the moment. She matched my pace and opened her eyes to look at me.

"Je t'adore," I continued. "Taim i'ngra leat. Ti amo."

I wasn't sure in how many languages I could say I love you, but there were quite a few. And thinking about that helped me make this a little less quick, because, well, it _has_ been four days.

"Tangshin-i cho-a-yo."

"Korean?" she asked in a breathy voice. I could tell she was close. I nodded and picked up the pace.

"Mas rapido?" I asked with a grin.

"Oh yeah."

* * *

We didn't make it out into the hallway on time, but we were close. And we still beat Logan and Barek, so I wasn't too concerned. That is, until they opened their door and motioned us to come into their room.

"Another threat?" Alex asked as she looked at Carolyn's phone. "This is crazy. Who knows you're back?"

"You mean besides Quarles?" Logan asked. And he had a point. We weren't trying to keep a low profile here, but still…it wouldn't be common knowledge. Someone would've had to be watching for her. And watching what? The apartment?

"We need to track that phone," I said. Alex nodded and pulled out her phone.

"I'm going to call Ross."

"Why?" I asked. Every time we called him I felt like a high school kid going in front of the principal. And I hadn't done anything wrong this time.

"He'll help," Alex replied. "He can track the cell phone for us while we go to Harrah's. I think we all need to stay together."

"Good idea," Mike said. "We don't know what kind of loony toons we're dealing with."

Alex gave a quick call to Ross and from the look on her face, it was a painful conversation. She hung up and looked around with a tight smile.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He'll check on the cell phone."

"And?"

"And he asked why we couldn't just stay at home on our days off like most normal couples."

"He said that?" I was blown away that Ross actually referred to us as a couple. He had never once mentioned it even though we knew he knew.

"I think he was a little frustrated," she admitted with a laugh. "He may have said something about how it's a damn good thing we have such a high solve rate…"

"And what did you say?"

"I told him that if he preferred, we could leave him out of the loop next time," she said with an impish grin. Logan burst out laughing.

"Oh, I bet he loved that," he said.

"So, we're heading to Harrah's?" I asked, bringing the conversation back to its focus.

"Yeah, but let's go in twos," Carolyn suggested. "Alex and I will go in together. We'll seem less threatening to the employees and if the person issuing the threats is there, he may make a move on us. You guys can come in after us. Play the slots a little, check out the place, but very low key. And don't let on that you're there with us."

"But we get to keep an eye on you two," Mike added.

"Right."

I had no interest in playing the slot machines. Between Frank and the man I believed was my father, gambling had lost all appeal. I liked playing cards. I liked the challenge of the game, but I never put money down.

"Do you see them?" Mike asked as we walked in the glitzy casino. We both stood still just inside the doors trying to adjust our eyes to the myriad of flashing lights.

"Not yet," I admitted. And I didn't like that. Alex and Carolyn had come in five minutes ahead of us. I told them to not move too far from the entrance until we came in and could make visual contact with them.

"There," Mike said suddenly, pointing to the far right side of the room. A large man, probably a security guard, had Alex by the arm and Carolyn was talking animatedly.

"What the hell?" Mike asked but I was already striding towards them.

Before I could get there, Alex jerked away from his grasp and Carolyn pinned the man up against the wall. He easily outweighed her by a hundred and fifty pounds, but she held him in place with her forearm across his windpipe.

"Whoa, hey, what's going on here?" Mike asked as we slowed to a halt in front of them.

"I asked him nicely to let her go," Carolyn explained.

"This jackass saw my piece, but he wouldn't let me show him my badge," Alex said angrily.

"You need to apologize," Carolyn said to the guard. The way she was holding him, I wasn't sure if he could speak at all.

"Ma'am, you need to let him go and step away," another man said as he approached the group. "I'm Richard Slater and I run this place."

Carolyn reluctantly took a step back. I watched her in amazement as she looked around casually as though nothing had just happened.

"This lady is armed," the guard said accusingly, pointing at Alex. She rolled her eyes and looked at me.

"Yes, I am, and I'm a New York police officer. I offered to show him my i.d. but he wouldn't give me the chance."

Alex pulled her badge and i.d. from her pocket and showed it to the manager.

"A courtesy heads up next time would be appreciated, ma'am."

"Well, let me give you one then," I said in a smartass tone that I'd learned from Alex. "I'm a New York police officer, and I'm armed." I showed my credentials, too, and then the manager looked at Mike and Carolyn.

"You two?"

"No."

"Any reason why NYPD is hanging out in my casino?"

"To gamble?" Alex replied sardonically.

He looked at us dubiously but gave a nod to the security guard and the two of them walked away.

"Great, Bobby," Carolyn said. "So much for coming in here on the sly."

"He had her by the arm," I argued, although I knew I was wrong. I should've waited and watched. Clearly the women had the situation under control.

"Hey guys," Mike interrupted. "Did anybody happen to notice that Lt. Quarles is here?"

"What?" I said, whipping my head around.

"Where?" Carolyn asked.

"He was in the back hall. I saw him when manager Dick opened the door to go back to his office."

"You sure it was him?"

"I can spot a sleaze ball a mile away. I'm sure."

"Did he see you?"

"I don't think so. But I'm sure there are cameras everywhere in this place."

I took a moment to absorb the room. There were a lot of people and money was flowing freely. There was no alcohol being served because the casino is on a dry Indian reservation, but that didn't stop people from acting like fools with their money.

"Check it out," I said to the others. "Lots of small bills floating around."

"Well, yeah. It's a casino," Logan said.

"I mean small bills. Fives, tens, some twenties. Not many fifties or hundreds."

"What did Pete Walker do here?" Alex asked. I caught her eye and we shared the moment. It was always so exhilarating when we reached a conclusion at roughly the same time.

"He was a server."

"So he worked on tips. And tips from non-alcoholic beverages are nowhere near as good."

"Right. So why did he have fifties crammed in his desk drawer?"

"Do you think he was skimming the till?"

"Let's go say hi to the Lieutenant," I said, changing the subject again. I didn't know if Walker was skimming or not, but I didn't like the idea that the Asheville cop was down here hobnobbing with the casino manager. Not when this was where the dead man had worked. And not when Quarles was already acting weird.

"Why?" Carolyn asked.

"I want him to twist a little. He's up to something."

"Hang on a second," Alex said, grabbing for her buzzing cell phone. "It's Ross."

"Yes, Captain," she answered. "Really?" She looked up at me quickly. "Thank you, sir. We will." She hung up.

"What is it?"

"The drop cell was part of a large order of cell phones, all purchased by Richard Slater."

"And the plot thickens," Logan said. "Let's go talk to Dick."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Logan POV**

* * *

The door to the back office wasn't locked. That surprised me and put me on the alert. It made wonder if they'd tracked our progress on the video cameras and were purposely allowing our entrance.

"Carolyn," I said quietly as we walked down the long hall.

"Yeah?"

"Call that phone."

"What?"

"Dial the number, the one that sent you the texts." She pulled out her phone and called the number. We all listened.

"That would've been too easy," Eames said wryly when we were met with silence. "I don't suppose it had voice mail that gave his name?"

"Automated voice mail," she replied, hanging up the phone.

A door opened near the end of the hall and Quarles came out.

"Carolyn," he said, putting on a big smile. I wanted to knock his teeth down his throat. "What a surprise!"

"That's what we were thinking," she said, not returning his smile. "Why didn't you mention that you knew the manager down here?"

"How is that relevant?" he asked innocently.

"How is it relevant?" I repeated. "That you know the boss where the dead guy worked? You knew we were coming down here to talk to people. You might have mentioned it."

"Harrah's isn't connected to the murders." He was trying to be casual about blocking our passage. I wanted to know what was in that office.

"And how do you know this?" Goren asked. He stepped in to the guy on one side and I liked his method so much that I followed suit and closed in on the other side. Quarles took a step back.

"Unless you know who did the murders, then I don't see how you can know who _isn't_ connected," Goren continued in a voice that made me glad I was on his side.

"I'm not friends with Richard Slater. I came down to talk to him. Pete Walker quit. The day _before_ he disappeared. He never had any complaints about working here, and he didn't have any issues with any fellow employees."

"You and Dick looked awfully chummy for you to be claiming not be friends," I told him.

"I came down to ask him a few questions. I knew you guys might think he was involved somehow, and I knew he wasn't. I wanted to clear him quickly."

I looked at him with utter disbelief. Did this guy think we were stupid? He didn't know Carolyn at all if he thought she would buy such a line of crap.

"I'm going to have to ask y'all to leave. You're trespassing on private property," Slater said, stepping into the open doorway. "So unless you have a warrant issued by someone other than the state of New York, I'd like y'all to leave now."

"Did you purchase cell phones for your employees?" Carolyn asked without moving or flinching. She is one bad ass, my wife.

"It's a big casino. I need people to be in contact with each other."

"If I give you a number, can you tell me who was issued that phone?"

"I could, but again, you'd need a warrant. And I don't see anything in your hand. Jack?"

"He's right. We need to go. But I'll get you guys your warrant. We'll be back, Slater," Quarles said, hustling us down the hall and back out into the casino.

"I'll meet up with you guys at Pisgah in the morning. I'm sure you'll want to look at the dump site, right?"

"We need that warrant," Carolyn insisted.

"I'll get it," he promised, but then he turned quickly and left.

"He's involved," Carolyn said quietly. I was glad she'd said it so that I didn't have to.

"Did you guys smell anything down the hall?" Goren asked. _Huh?_

"It smelled like carpet," I said after giving it some thought.

"And bleach," Eames added.

"Clean-up job?" I suggested.

"Maybe. Blood on the carpet could have led to a bleach-cleaning job and then ultimately new carpet," Carolyn agreed.

"Or," Goren began. "Or it could be something else. Let's go back to the hotel. I want to take a closer look at those fifties you bagged."

We walked across the street to the Fairfield. It was freezing outside, and we probably could've driven instead, but Harrah's parking lot was so big that by the time we walked back to the car, we could have just as easily walked across the road. I took the opportunity to put my arm around Carolyn and keep her close.

"That was quite a move you put on the big guy back there," I told her in a conspiratorial tone. She smiled.

"I'll show you how to do it someday. But you'll never beat me."

"Somehow I don't think I'll mind losing."

* * *

The four of us gathered back in our hotel room. I pulled the baggie from the file that I had left on the dresser. Goren pulled out the fifties and started to examine them.

"What are you thinking? Counterfeit?" I asked. He held one up to the light and then rubbed his fingers over the paper.

"The paper's too good. That's the hardest part about printing counterfeits. The real deal paper is specially made and hard to find and it's tracked by the Treasury Department."

I watched as he put the paper up to his nose and inhaled deeply. _What the fuck is he doing?_ Money is about the nastiest thing imaginable. I didn't want to think what it smelled like. But then he held it out to me.

"Smell it," he said.

"I'm not smelling that." Eames took it from his hand and put it up to her nose. Then they did that look thing again that they do. They stare at each other like there is no one else in the room. It used to really bug me but I guess I'm getting used to it.

Eames nodded almost imperceptibly, and so then I had to know. I grabbed the fifty from her hand and sniffed it.

"It smells like bleach," I stated. Carolyn took her turn at smelling the money.

"Okay, _now_ we're on to something," she said with a grin. She saw that I wasn't up to speed. "If the paper is the hardest part to replicate, then how do you get around that?"

And the light came on.

"You use real money," I said.

"It doesn't work with twenties because of the special strip they have in them, but it would work if you changed a five or a ten into a fifty or a hundred as long as you use old bills, the ones printed before the color-changing ink came into play."

"So how does it work exactly?"

"You take fives and tens, cover up the standard portions and wash out the remaining part with bleach. Then you dry them out, and run them through a laser printer, adding in the missing parts from a scanned authentic bill: an extra zero in the corners and the right face in the middle. Serial numbers are authentic, paper is real, and overall it's very hard to detect," Goren explained.

"How do you think Pete Walker played into this?" Alex asked. "And Quarles? He has to be involved."

"The casino would be the perfect place to filter out the money," Carolyn said with a shrug. "Lots of fives and tens coming in, they clean them up and reprint them, and then people are cashing in their chips, getting the fake fifties and hundreds. The casino rips them off, paying them only a tenth of the value."

"Or not the casino, but Slater. Or Quarles. Or whoever is pocketing the extra cash."

"Great. Money laundering 101," I added.

* * *

We all agreed to work with Quarles and pretend that we didn't suspect him of anything. The old theory of keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Something like that anyway. We also all agreed to not mention the counterfeiting idea.

It was eight o'clock when we met up with Quarles at the Pigeon Road entrance to the Pisgah National Forest. I wasn't sure that seeing where the body had been found was going to do us any good, but it was just one step in the process. And it was never a good idea to skip any steps.

It was still cold as hell around here, and I was hoping the dump sites were near the road, but Quarles hopped out of his car dressed in hiking boots and a cold-weather parka. Shit.

"Good morning!" he called out in his irritating good ol' boy southern accent. He looked like Ranger Fucking Rick.

"We're ready," Goren said, his attitude matching mine. "Let's get this done."

We followed Quarles along the trail through a thick forest.

"Did you get our warrant?" Carolyn asked him.

"Sure did. It's back in the truck. I'll give it to you when we get back and you can take it on down to Harrah's."

"What's the status on the autopsies?" Goren asked.

"Walker's shows hypothermia due to prolonged exposure."

"And Hannigan?"

"It's still pending."

Walker must have been brought into these woods and left for dead. It wouldn't take much for the cold to get you, that was for damn sure. At night it probably easily dipped down into the twenties, maybe less.

"Did the M.E. find any interesting marks on Walker's body? Puncture mark from a syringe maybe?"

"No."

"Do you have a copy of the report?" Carolyn asked. _That's my girl_, I thought. She wasn't going to take him at his word for anything.

"Back at the office. I can get it to you."

"How much further?" Eames asked. And she was reading my mind, because I was just starting to think that this was ridiculous.

"About a half-mile."

"Who found him?" Goren asked. "This seems awfully far into the forest for this time of year. Does the park get a lot of foot traffic in November?"

"Not a lot, but the Blue Ridge Parkway crosses through here, so it does get some. And I found him. We had search parties working day and night. Carolyn knows that. It was her idea to look here."

"You found the body," Eames clarified.

"I did. Thursday night. I called Carolyn not long after." His statement gave me a thought. I pulled out my cell phone and looked at it. No signal.

"And then you sent search parties out here for Hannigan. He'd only been missing about twelve hours when he was found. It was close by?" Goren asked. I liked that the big guy was quizzing Quarles. And he was doing it with his interrogation voice.

"Very close."

"What made you think they would be in the same general location?"

Quarles didn't answer because just then, a shot rang out through the forest. We were fairly spread out along the path because it was a narrow, rough trail and it was easier to traverse alone. We all ducked behind different trees and looked in the direction from which the sound had come.

Goren and Eames both pulled out their weapons, as did Quarles. I had mine today and so did Carolyn, but we were carrying illegally, so we both waited to see if it would be necessary.

Quarles looked back and pointed at Goren, and then motioned him to the left. Eames trailed after him, making a slightly larger half-circle. Quarles went to the right. I inched his direction with my hand on my weapon because I didn't trust him any further than I could throw him. He'd just marched us a mile or more into the woods and now suddenly someone was shooting at us? Or near us anyway.

Another shot went off and I took two more steps toward Quarles, and then I turned to look back at Carolyn.

She was gone.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"Carolyn!"

When I heard the panic in Mike's voice, my first thought was that she had been shot. I turned back toward the trail where I had left Logan and Barek, expecting to see Logan bending over a wounded Carolyn. Instead I only saw Logan.

"Carolyn!" Logan left the path and started running through the trees.

"Logan!" I called out, hot on his heels. "Eames, come on!"

"What happened?" she shouted back. We met at the original path and then followed the forced path created by Logan.

"I don't know, but Mike is after something."

"Logan!" I shouted again. He was several yards in front of us, but due to the density of the forest, we could barely see him. And then I heard a car engine. And six shots rang out.

We stumbled out of the woods and into a clearing created by an old logging road. Logan stood, bent at the waist with his hands on his knees, his gun still clutched in one hand.

"Logan, what happened?" Eames asked. He stood up and looked at us, his face etched in anguish. He jammed his gun back in its holster.

"They took her. The sons of bitches took her."

"Who?"

"I didn't see them. After the two shots, I turned to make sure she was okay, but she was gone. I heard rustling in the trees, so I chased them, following the sounds. They had a truck waiting. They must have thrown her in it. Oh, God," he said, turning in circles and putting his hands on his head.

"I couldn't get to her," he said quietly, mostly to himself. I felt his fear and pain as though it were my own. It had been years since that horrible night that Alex had been kidnapped, but I would remember that feeling for the rest of my life. That feeling of helplessness and emptiness and all-encompassing terror.

"I…uh…When I broke out of the trees, they had started the truck," he continued. "I fired at them. Emptied my whole damn clip, but they got away."

"What happened? Where's Barek?" Quarles said, just arriving in the clearing.

"You son of a bitch!" Mike yelled, lunging at the lieutenant. "What did you do with her?"

Alex took a step towards the two men. I wasn't sure if she was going to help Mike throttle Quarles, or try to pull him off. Whichever was her intent, I shook my head and she stopped. Logan deserved a minute to vent.

Mike slung Quarles into a tree and gave him a hard punch to the jaw. Jack likely would've gone down with that one punch, but Mike grabbed him by the shoulders and jammed him into the tree again.

"You tell me right now. Where is she?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I swear. I don't know."

"If you're lying to me, I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you with my bare hands, do you hear me?"

"Mike," Alex said finally. She put her hand on his arm. He looked at her, his eyes wild, and took a step back. "We'll find her."

Logan took a deep breath and then took another step back. He nodded his head and looked around the clearing. I wasn't sure if he was seeing anything at all. We needed him back in the game to help find her. Alex knew this, too. She went to him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a moment of comfort so that he could gather his wits about him.

I turned to Quarles.

"What do you know?" I asked him menacingly. I would love to take a swing at him, too, but he obviously wasn't the one who had taken Carolyn. And he might know who did, but if I rendered him unconscious then he wouldn't be much help to us.

"I don't know anything."

"I almost believe that," I said smartly. "Who else knew we were coming out here today?"

"I told a few people. The M.E., the chief, some of the guys on duty. I knew I was going to be out of cell range for awhile and so I needed people to know where I was."

"Slater?"

"What about him?"

"Did he know?"

"Uh…yeah."

"Why?" I asked sharply. "Why would you tell a potential suspect that we were coming out here?"

"I just told him that we would be serving the warrant on him this afternoon. After we came out here."

"How did you even get your job?" I asked rhetorically. I turned to Mike and Alex and saw that he had regained his composure. They came back to where we stood, and I looked back at Quarles.

"Why didn't you drive us in on this logging road? It's obviously passable," I asked.

"It's hard on a vehicle, driving over this rough terrain."

"So you did it to save the life of our rental vehicle," Alex said.

"I…um…"

"Where does this road come out at?" Logan asked.

"It curls back around to Route 276."

"Come on. Let's get back to the SUV," I said to Mike and Alex. We took a few steps and then I turned back to the lieutenant.

"If I find out you're involved in this, I'll let him kill you," I said with a nod toward Logan. "And I'm an expert with forensics. No one will ever catch him."

We ran all the way back to our truck. I quizzed Mike along the way. I needed the information, but I also needed to keep his mind focused.

"What kind of vehicle?"

"Green Ford pick-up."

"Did you get a plate?"

"Partial. North Carolina tag HRF-32. I couldn't get the last two numbers. There was dirt on the plate."

"Two men?"

"Yeah."

"Description?"

"Uh…not really. They were already in the truck. I could see that they were both wearing brown coats, like the heavy hunting jackets. One had a black stocking hat and the other one had a blue one."

"Was she making any noise?" I asked. I didn't want to ask, but I needed to know.

"What? Noise?"

"Carolyn. Did you hear her scream or make any noise?"

"Uh…I…I don't think so. I think I heard a muffled sound at first, but then…uh…no, I don't think so."

"They must have drugged her," Alex said. It was exactly what I was thinking. I had seen how easily Carolyn man-handled the security guard who was twice her size. Even if two men were able to overtake her, they would have had a hell of a fight on their hands.

"Something that worked fast. They must have grabbed her, injected her with something, and then carried her through the woods."

"Oh man," Mike moaned. We had reached the truck by this point and we all quickly climbed in. Alex took us back out of the park in the direction of Route 276.

"Mike," Alex said in a commanding voice. "Keep your head in this. We'll find her. Was she armed today?"

"Yeah."

"They might not think to check. Especially if it was anyone from the casino, since you guys were unarmed in there last night."

"But if she's drugged…"

"We need to call Rodgers and get a list of possible drugs. It was something that worked quickly."

"And call Ross. Get him to find that green truck," Logan added. "And I'm going to visit Dick. I need to know what he knows."

Alex called Ross while I called Rodgers.

"Liz, I need your help," I said when she answered. I don't know if Ross had already told her we were involved with a case, but my urgent tone and use of her first name captured her complete attention.

"What do you need, Detective?" she replied quickly. I told her about Carolyn.

"There are a few options available by injection, but if they were smart, they would've avoided that."

"Why?"

"It's cold down there, right? She was bundled up? All of the easy access points would've been hard to get to."

"Right. Sorry. I should've thought of that."

"Don't beat yourself up, Detective. That's why you called me."

"So what do you think it would be?"

"Chloroform maybe. Ether. Or some bastardized homemade version. You can put the stuff on a cloth and sometimes, it'll take the person out pretty quickly."

"Sometimes?"

"Depends on body weight, tolerance…Barek is pretty small. It was a good chance it would've worked quickly."

"How long will it leave her out? What about side effects?"

"Again, it's not an exact science. She could be out for a few minutes or an hour. It can be very dangerous, if we're talking about chloroform. It can cause cardiac arrest if too much is used." I slammed my eyes closed and forced down the waves of nausea.

"Okay," I said finally. "Thanks."

"How's Mike holding up?" she asked gently, her concern evident.

"About as you would expect."

"Bring our girl back, Detective. You hear me?"

"I'll do my best."

I hung up with Rodgers as Alex was finishing up with Ross.

"He was in the office. He already checked it out," she said excitedly. "You got enough of the plate for him to find it, Mike. The truck is registered to James Neal of Cherokee. Ross pulled his social and cross-checked his employment. Harrah's Casino for the past four years."

"Ross tapped into his records?" I asked in surprise. "Just like that?"

"He likes Carolyn," Alex replied. She gave me a look and then turned her eyes back to the road. We were halfway between Pisgah and Cherokee, near a place called Soco Gap. I turned to tell Mike about the chloroform when suddenly Alex slammed on her brakes and squealed the SUV to a stop.

"Look!" she shouted, pointing through the windshield. Just ahead, the green pickup was pulled off the side of the road. Both front doors were open and the truck was still running, but there was no sign of anyone.

We all piled out of the SUV and ran to the truck. The ground was frozen, limiting the possibility of footprints, especially from someone as light as Carolyn, but I frantically scanned the ground anyway.

"I'd say Carolyn woke up," Mike said, looking encouraged for the first time since she'd been taken.

"Here's a shell casing," Alex called out. She was several yards from the road.

".45?" Logan asked.

"No, .38"

"Not Carolyn's then."

"Here's another one," Alex said after a few more steps. Beyond the road was wilderness that surrounded the Blue Ridge Parkway. And two miles beyond that was the Great Smokey Mountains. It was dangerous country.

"She's in there somewhere," Mike said, looking toward the trees. "With two armed men after her."

I wandered into the edge of the trees and continued my search. We needed something to go on, an indicator of which direction to head. Even without the men chasing her, Carolyn might not survive the night in this cold.

And then I heard it. A single shot, quite a ways off in the woods.

"Guys!" I shouted. Logan and Alex were both already running towards me.

"I heard it," Mike said. "Let's go."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I was pretty pissed off at myself for getting snagged. It was downright shameful. But I had been focused on Quarles because I thought he was up to something, and the next thing I knew, I was being dragged backwards with a stinky rag over my mouth and nose.

I woke up jammed in the front seat of a pick-up between two people, laying on my back, with my legs on one of the passenger. My head was pounding and my heart was racing and my first thought was of Mike. He was going to be kicking himself in the ass, of that I had no doubt.

And then panic hit me for a minute. Panic that I would never see him again. That I would end up somewhere in Pisgah just like Pete Walker and Scott Hannigan.

I forced those thoughts from my head. I had to channel my energy and work on a plan. I had no idea where these two guys were taking me, but I was for damn sure going to make it as difficult as possible.

I was facing toward the passenger, so I was able to get a pretty good look at him. I opened my eyes just a fraction and looked up through my lashes. I didn't want him to know that I was awake yet. Twenty-something, white, blue stocking cap, thin face. Unremarkable and yet he seemed vaguely familiar. I was betting I had spoken with him about Pete Walker's disappearance. He sat leaning towards the door and drummed his fingers on the dashboard.

I closed my eyes fully again and wiggled around a little, making a moaning noise. I needed to feel if I still had my gun.

"She waking up?" the driver asked.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Look at her, dumb ass." Okay, so the driver was the brains of the outfit. That meant the passenger would be the easier target. Of course, we were in a moving vehicle so I had to work on that aspect as well.

"She looks asleep to me." The drumming resumed.

I took a chance and looked again. I could see quite a few trees flying by, so I was pretty sure they weren't taking me in the direction of Asheville. If I could get the truck stopped, I could make a break for the trees. And I had my gun. It was under my zipped-up parka, so I would never get it out quickly, but if I could get a lead on them I might have a chance.

But I didn't want to stage an escape only to realize that the drugs were still affecting me, so I went through a few mental exercises to make sure the fog had cleared. Sternberg's Triarchic Theory of Intelligence…the Einstein-Podolosky-Rosen paradox…the top twenty-five techniques to kill a man with your bare hands…okay, yeah, I was good.

Next, I went through a rundown of my plan in my head.

And then I carried it out.

I reached up and grabbed the steering wheel and pulled down hard, jerking the truck to the right. As passenger guy looked towards me, I caught him with a knee to the nose. Very sensitive place, the nose.

The driver guy jammed on the brakes, which is the typical response. Then he reached for my hand in an effort to get me to let go of the wheel. I grabbed his instead and twisted his hand around so that he was left with two choices: submit, or a broken wrist. I broke his wrist.

When I heard the snap, I immediately followed up with a second kick to the passenger's nose. By this time, the truck had rumbled to a stop. I crawled over top of the howling passenger and got out the door.

I could hear them shouting at me and at each other, and in a few seconds I heard a couple of shots ring out, but they were too late. I was in the trees. I didn't slow down, my adrenaline keeping my legs pumping over the rocky terrain.

After a few minutes, I stopped long enough to pull out my gun and my cell phone. I figured I had enough of a lead that it was worth the ten seconds of hesitation. Of course, my cell had no signal, but I left it turned on and stuffed it into my parka pocket for easy access later. I kept my gun in my hand, and took off again.

I wondered how far behind Mike was, or even if he had any idea where I was. I had no memory of what had happened in Pisgah after I'd felt that cloth over my face. Had they hurt him or Bobby or Alex? Was Jack really involved in this mess? Who was shooting from the other direction out there in the forest?

I tripped on a root and went down on my knees. _Damn, Carolyn, pay attention_. The fabric on one of my pant legs tore open, exposing my now-bloody knee. I cursed myself again, but pressed on.

I could hear the two guys still behind me. They were making plenty of noise and were still far enough away to ease my immediate concern. I kept going until I was pretty sure I was about a mile into the trees, and then I stopped. I settled my thundering heart and slowed my breathing. I still remembered how to walk through the trees without making a sound, so that's what I did, looping around wide to the left.

After a minute or so, I heard the men, fairly close, but adjacent to me rather than behind. They stopped, but were looking ahead in the direction they assumed me to be.

"We're never going to find her," the passenger said.

"We have to find her. You heard what the boss-man said," the driver replied. I enjoyed the fact that he was holding his right wrist tightly against his body. _Serves him right._

"I don't think there's any way she knows what's going on."

"Well, he doesn't pay you to think, does he?" _Yeah, because wouldn't that be a rip-off_?

I debated for a moment which one to shoot. I would probably only get off one shot. The best candidate was the driver because he appeared to be, marginally, the smarter of the two. But he also had an injured wrist, and considering the awkward way he was holding the gun in his left hand, he was right-handed.

I made my decision, and set my sites on the passenger. Dumb or not, the fact that he could fire a gun with his dominant hand made him more dangerous.

I took the shot and then ducked back behind a tree. The sound ricocheted through the forest and I hoped he would have trouble pinpointing my exact location. I hadn't watched long enough to confirm that the passenger had gone down, but I know I'm a pretty good shot.

"Buddy!"

"Shit, man. I'm shot." I guess Buddy had survived. Good. I didn't really need to kill him. I just didn't want him to keep coming after me.

"Come on out, bitch. You know we're gonna get you!" But I couldn't hear any steps coming toward me. They still weren't sure where I was and they were afraid I was going to take another shot. _Good idea_.

I peeked out from behind the tree, keeping my head low to the ground. No one ever expects someone to look from behind something at a height other than average human height. So the trick when doing a quick-check is to either go higher or lower. I wasn't up for climbing a tree at the moment, so I went with lower.

The passenger, Buddy, was down on the ground. He was gripping his right arm with his left and the upper portion of his jacket was stained with blood. _Nice job, Carolyn_. I had neutralized the use of his dominant hand, too.

The driver was standing over him, looking frantically in my general direction, but he was still scanning a decent-sized area. The shot had taken him by surprise, so he wasn't completely sure from where it had come.

I stayed low on the ground and aimed my weapon. I took a deep breath and went through my routine. BRAS-F. Breath, relax, aim, squeeze, follow-through.

His right arm was already disabled because of the broken wrist, so I went for the leg. And I got him. He dropped to the ground, screaming in agony.

I felt another rush of adrenaline course through me. It made me not notice the cold or my sore knees. I got to my feet, and with my gun still trained on the two men, I carefully approached them. Neither of them made a move to retrieve their weapons. When I got close enough, I kicked their guns clear of their reach.

"Now start talking unless you want me to shoot you again," I told Buddy, since the driver was still yelling.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked. "Slater didn't tell us you were going to be pulling all this G.I Jane shit on us. Damn."

"Slater? So he's the one that sent you after me?"

"Shut up, Buddy!" the driver wailed.

"No, he's not going to shut up. You're going to shut up," I said, jamming the nose of my .45 into his forehead. "Keep talking, Buddy."

"Yeah. Slater. He told us to take care of you."

"Is Quarles in on it, too?"

"The cop?"

"Yeah, the Asheville cop."

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"What about the others back at Pisgah. Did you do anything to them?"

Buddy didn't answer right away and my heart jumped into my throat. My fear for Mike and my friends pushed me into action, and I used the butt of my gun to whack him on the back of the head.

"If you make me ask you again, I'll just kill you right fucking now."

"Nah, man, I swear. Slater just told us to get you."

I thought I believed him. But I wasn't sure. And then I heard it.

"Carolyn!"

It was Mike's voice. I choked down a sob of relief and called back to him. In a matter of minutes, he and Alex and Bobby came into view. When they saw that I was holding the two men at gunpoint, Alex and Bobby ran up to take over. Mike just ran straight to me.

He grabbed me up into his arms, pulling me off of my feet, and hugged me tighter than ever before.

"Oh thank God, baby. Thank God you're okay," he said roughly, his voice wracked with emotion. I couldn't even say anything at all. I was afraid one word would start a whole flood of emotion and I couldn't deal with that right now.

Alex bent down and checked the pockets of the two men while Bobby held his gun on them.

"Lookie here," she said as she pulled a wad of cash out of Buddy's pocket. She smelled it. "Fifties that smell like bleach."

Mike was still holding me off the ground, but he finally relaxed enough to set me down. He put both hands on my cheeks.

"You're okay?" he asked again as he looked intently into my eyes. His concern was palpable. "They didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine. I promise. They were idiots. They didn't check for a gun."

"Thank God for puffy coats."

"It looks like she's the one that hurt them. Damn, Carolyn, what did you do?" Alex asked with a bemused look. I looked at the two men and just shrugged.

"I got information," I told them. "It's Slater. He's the one that ordered them to kill me."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Alex POV**

* * *

It took awhile to plan our next step. It's not like this was the kind of thing they that teach you at the academy.

"We're in a jurisdictional nightmare," Carolyn said calmly. "When we got out of the car, we were still in Haywood County, but I'm not sure now. The kidnapping occurred in Pisgah National Forest. We're very close, possibly even in, the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We're also close to, possibly in, the Cherokee Indian Reservation. The murders of Walker and Hannigan are covered by the Asheville Police and the counterfeiting should be investigated by the Secret Service. Am I missing anything?"

"No, I think that about covers it," Bobby said. "Let's get back to our car and make sure we're in Haywood County. Harrah's is covered by the Cherokee marshalls and while I doubt they would be a part of this, I don't want to take the chance. And I really don't want to bring the Ranger Service into this."

"Great. And then what? I get to talk to Dick?" Logan asked anxiously.

I held back a smirk. The way Logan said that man's name just cracked me up, especially when no one else called him 'Dick'.

"Not yet. Right now, he thinks that these two are taking care of Barek. They didn't make any calls, did they?"

"Not that I saw. I don't know how they could have. I haven't had a signal since I was about fifty yards from the road."

"Okay, good. Let's let everyone think they did their job. We'll sit these two in Haywood County jail and you and Logan go back to the hotel for just a little bit."

"What are you guys going to do?"

"Me and Eames are going to go talk to Quarles. We need to get to the bottom of this before we confront Slater. Once we get more evidence, we can call in reinforcements."

It was a long trek back to our vehicle. Buddy and the driver, who we determined was the owner of the truck James Neal, both needed medical treatment, but the injuries weren't life threatening. The sheriff's office could take care of getting them to the hospital while in custody.

Mike and Carolyn took the lead, followed by the two injured men, and we brought up the rear. Bobby and I walked side by side.

As we walked through the woods, I could feel Bobby's eyes on me.

"What?" I asked when after several minutes he still didn't speak.

"You know, I thought I was pretty good at reading your looks, but you threw me earlier today."

"Which one?"

"After your call to Ross. I'm hoping maybe it just meant that you would tell me later?"

"You still read me just fine," I told him with a smile.

"I take it the conversation didn't go as smoothly as you made it seem. What did he say?"

"I asked him to run those plates on the pickup."

"And he said?"

I recounted the conversation:

"_Eames, you know I'm your captain, right?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_And aren't you on personal time?"_

"_Yes sir."_

"_Then why are you asking me to do your investigative scut work as though I was some rookie straight out of the academy?"_

"_I'm asking you for help. I thought we had forged somewhat of a bond of trust. After all, we did help clear your wife of murder and kept her safe while you were in the hospital."_

"_So you're saying I owe you a favor?"_

"_No sir. Not at all. You don't owe me a thing. But Mike and Carolyn opened their home to you and Liz. Whatever you may think of me and Bobby and even Logan for that matter is irrelevant. Carolyn has never been anything but nice to you, and she's missing and we need your help to find her."_

"Wow. What did he say to that?" Bobby asked.

"He put me on hold. Then he came back with the information. And he said that I was right. He liked Carolyn."

"Meaning…he still doesn't like the rest of us?"

"I don't know. I don't know why he has it in for Logan, but maybe he just feels like he needs to keep that line between us. You know, boss versus subordinates. Does it bother you?"

"No," he admitted with a grin.

"Me either."

"I actually feel a little better with it this way. When he was being too nice, it was kind of freaking me out."

I smiled back at him. I completely understood that sentiment. It had been he and I against Ross for so long that it felt weird any other way.

"So how do you want to play this with Quarles?" Bobby asked, getting us back on topic. We probably only had a few more minutes before we would reach the road.

"Do you think he only brought Carolyn down here because he's somehow involved and he wanted to be able to manipulate the investigation?"

"Yes."

"Then you get to be the bad cop," I told him. He was quiet for a moment and I knew that he knew where I was going with that.

"That means you get to be the sexy, single female cop whose brute of a partner doesn't understand her," he said at last. I was glad to hear the hint of teasing in there.

"I think so. Don't you?"

"If he reacts like I think he will, then it won't be much of a stretch for me to act like the asshole."

By this time, we finally broke through the last of the trees and came out onto the grassy area between the road and the forest. And that was when we realized all of our planning was for naught.

On the shoulder, behind the green pick up and behind our rented dark blue SUV was Quarles' truck. He stood outside his vehicle with one hand on his gun and his cell phone on his ear. He disconnected his call and put his phone away as we came into view.

"Carolyn!" he shouted when we came into view. I heard Mike mutter something, but I couldn't quite make it out.

"Okay, now what?" I asked Bobby.

"Let's just see where this goes," he whispered back.

"I saw your car here and was calling in for back-up!" Quarles called out as we approached. "You're okay?"

"I am," she replied stiffly. "No thanks to Slater."

"Slater? What does he have to do with this?"

"Are you really that stupid?" Logan asked, stepping up close to Quarles. "Because I don't think you are. And if you're not, then it probably means you're trying to hide something. So which is it?"

"Which is what?"

"Are you stupid or trying to hide something?"

"Now wait just a damn minute," Quarles said, rising up to his full five-ten height. He and Logan stood eye-to-chin. "I brought you folks down here on a consultation. In fact, I asked only Carolyn to come down here. The rest of you…"

"That's right," Bobby interrupted. "You invited Barek. Why?"

"Why? Because she's good."

"She is good. But that's not why. You hadn't talked to her in years, and yet out of the blue, you ask for her help. You looked her up, you saw her name was still Barek…"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you asked her down here because you thought you could manipulate the course of the investigation."

"That's crazy."

"Is it? Then why are you bucking our efforts at every turn? Why were you so disappointed that she brought help the second time?"

"And why," Carolyn spoke up. "Did you offer to put me up at your place instead of in a hotel?"

I whipped around to look at Carolyn, her comment having completely caught me off guard. He had asked her to stay at his house? After she had told him she was married? Then I looked at Mike. His face was red and his hand was balled up in a fist, but he was holding himself together. She must have already told him about that little tidbit.

"We're friends, Carolyn. It wasn't for any reason other than that. Really. Now, if Slater is involved with this, then let's go talk to him."

"He is involved," I insisted. "These two here were sent by Slater to kill her."

Quarles paled slightly, and I puzzled at that. _Was it possible that he didn't know?_

"Okay," Quarles said. "Let me process these guys and have someone take them in for medical treatment. We'll keep them in custody pending charges of kidnapping. I'll meet you back at your hotel in two hours, and then we'll go together to confront Slater. If what you're saying is true, then we'll have to call in the Secret Service."

"Right," Carolyn agreed slowly. She quirked an eyebrow at me but kept talking. "That's fine. We'll meet you in two hours."

We left Quarles with Buddy and James. Once we were all in the car, we were silent for a minute.

"I never mentioned anything about counterfeiting so why would Quarles say we have to call the Secret Service? He should've assumed we were talking about kidnapping and murder."

"Right. And I never told him what hotel."

"So was it a good idea to let him take Fric and Frac?" Logan asked.

"I'm guessing he'll take them in for processing, if for no reason other than to try to keep up appearances. He still thinks he can get out of this without getting caught."

"So you think he's taking payoffs from the counterfeiting?" Carolyn asked. Bobby shook his head.

"Not payoffs. There wouldn't be any reason for Harrah's to pay off an Asheville cop. He's in it deep."

"Do you think he killed Walker?" I asked. I didn't think so, but I wanted to hear what Bobby had to say.

"No. I don't think Quarles has killed anyone. I think Walker found out about the counterfeiting, or was in on it and grew a conscience. Either way, once he balked they had to get rid of him or risk exposure. And Hannigan was just collateral damage. They had no way of knowing if Walker had confided in him, so they had to get rid of him too."

"My guess is that Quarles didn't consider the crimes related, but that he didn't want the Bureau poking around down here, so when his boss told him to get some help, he decided to reach out to me."

"He thought he could romance you," I said. "And influence the direction of the investigation."

"Wow, he doesn't know you at all, does he?" Logan joked, kicking up her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. Carolyn just rolled her eyes at him.

"So what's next? Secret Service?"

"No. It'll take them too long. Slater and Quarles are going to be working quickly to do a cover-up. We need to confront him. And we need to record it. Once we have documented proof, then we can call in the Secret Service."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I've always considered myself to be a pretty smart guy. Despite all of the problems that I've had to face over the course of my life, my intelligence was the one thing I never really doubted. The one thing I could count on.

But this time, it failed me. I was wrong, so completely wrong about Quarles.

When we parted ways with him on the highway, we headed towards Waynesville, which was only a few minutes in the opposite direction. Carolyn had found a Wal-Mart there on her previous visit to the area. It wasn't exactly my first choice of venue, but it would have what we needed – a small digital recorder.

"We need to run a background check on Slater," Carolyn said as we sped down the highway. "As of right now, we know nothing about him."

"I'm not calling Ross," Alex said.

"Why not? Isn't he our number one fan?" Logan asked.

"The honeymoon is over," Alex replied. She didn't go into further details, and no one pushed her on it.

"My laptop is at the hotel," Carolyn said.

"I'd rather not wait. Any other ideas?" I asked. I didn't have friends in the department, but I knew the others did.

"What about Wheeler?" Alex asked Logan. He shrugged.

"Yeah, she still likes me. She might do it."

"And not tell Ross?" I asked. I knew she was in pretty tight with our captain.

"She might look like a goody two-shoes, but she knows how to keep things on the down low when she has to. If I ask, she'll keep quiet."

"Then ask. Get her to find everything she can about Slater. We need to know who we're up against."

Alex and I left Mike and Carolyn in the car while we ran in to make our purchase.

"You didn't want to tell them what Ross said?" I asked her once we were alone.

"It doesn't matter," she replied. And then surprisingly, she took my hand. I looked down at our joined hands and then back up at her but she just shrugged.

"We haven't had enough Bobby and Alex time lately. We can just pretend we're a couple doing our Saturday afternoon shopping, right?"

"You won't get any argument from me."

"I didn't want them to know that I threw the whole Liz thing in his face," she said, going back to our discussion about Ross.

"You did it for them, though. They would understand."

"I'm not even sure I understand. I just got so mad at Ross for being such a jackass. Carolyn was kidnapped, likely drugged, and he's going to put up a fuss about running a plate for us? What kind of guy does that?"

She had a point. But I had known for quite some time just what kind of guy Ross was, so this latest turn of events didn't surprise me at all.

"I just don't get why he hates you so much," she continued. "You and Logan."

"I think he feels threatened by us. Or by me. And he did by Logan when he still worked with the department."

"So the whole alpha male thing? What is it with you guys?" she asked with a shake of her head.

"Hey, don't look at me," I argued with a smile. "I don't get into that."

"I'm going to let you get away with that for now," she told me, matching my grin. "But only because we need to come up with our plan. I still think that if I can get Quarles alone, I can get him to talk. When he meets us at the hotel, we should work it out that I spend a few minutes with him in the lobby, just me and him."

"Alex…"

"Not Alex," she reminded me. "Eames."

"Sorry. It's hard to remember that when you're holding my hand. Eames doesn't usually do that kind of thing." She went to let go, but I held on tight. "I'm teasing. I can do both."

"So…you're on board, right? I think he's still reeling about being rejected by Carolyn. And he's given me a few looks since we got here. I think he'll be receptive. I mean, he's not a killer, right? We think he's just a guy that got caught up in this whole counterfeiting thing. I'm guessing he wants to confess."

"He's been giving you looks?" I asked, still stuck on that statement.

"Goren…"

"Sorry. Okay, we'll give it a shot," I agreed. It's not like I was going to talk her out of it anyway. Her asking for my acceptance of the plan was only a formality.

Alex reached up and gave me a kiss.

"You know I was going to do it either way," she added for clarification. I barked out a quick laugh.

"Of course."

She reached up for another quick kiss, but this time I caught her by the back of the head and made it into something more.

"Bobby," she said quietly when I let her go.

"I'm done," I promised. "Let's find what we need, Eames."

We went to the electronics section and found some digital recorders. I bought two of the smallest ones I could find. I figured if we hid one each on two of us then our chances were better of being successful. We picked up a couple more random items, waited forever in a checkout line, and then went back outside.

"Wheeler said she'd get back to us. And she was at 1PP, so it shouldn't take too long," Logan told us when we returned to the car. "I told her to check out Quarles, too. It can't hurt."

"Good idea. Will she keep it quiet?"

"She said Ross is in some kind of mood today. She didn't seem to mind the cloak-and-dagger routine."

"What about Nichols?"

"What about him?"

"Will she tell him?"

"No. She hasn't quite warmed up to him yet. You know, after being partnered with me, I've probably ruined her for anyone else."

"You're what did it for me, that's for sure," Carolyn said with a heavy sigh. She had a subtle wit about her that I was beginning to appreciate. If you blink, you miss it. But if you got it, she was very entertaining.

We drove quickly back to the Fairfield.

"Quarles should be here in a little over an hour. We need to get these recorders set up. Eames is going to get him alone for a few minutes and see what she can get out of him," I told the others as we crossed the hotel parking lot.

"Good idea. Give him a sympathetic ear," Carolyn agreed.

"You think he'll open up?" I asked. I still hated the idea, of course, but it had its merits. And Carolyn knew him better than any of us, so I wanted her opinion.

"It's a good possibility."

But when we went through the lobby, there was Quarles. I did not like this one bit, and every nerve ending was on alert. He seemed to have a knack for showing up, one step ahead of us.

"That was fast," Logan muttered. "You took those boys to the Haywood sheriff?"

"It's not far. He's taking care of them and then he'll get them some medical treatment. Are you ready to talk to Slater?"

"I need to run back up to the room first," Carolyn said slowly. She caught my eye and nodded. "We'll meet you back down here in a few minutes."

I wanted to abort the plan. Alex wasn't miked up and I was getting a really bad vibe from the whole situation. But Alex had other ideas.

"I'll stay and keep you company," she offered to Quarles. It took every ounce of my restraint, coupled with Barek shoving me from behind, to leave Alex alone with him.

I watched as Quarles stood back and gestured grandly, allowing Alex to walk in front of him into the seating area in the lobby. She sat down on a couch and he settled in next to her, much too close for my liking. I stared hard at the back of his head, but Alex caught my eye and gave me a look. And I knew what that one meant. _Get to work, Goren. _

"We need to call the Haywood sheriff," I said on the way up to the room.

"I'm on it," Carolyn said, pulling out her phone. Did Quarles really take the men there that fast? It had taken us a little time at Wal-Mart, but enough for him to handle the exchange of two men in custody?

We went into Logan's room and opened up the digital recorders. I ran a quick check to make sure they were working properly, but my mind was on Alex. _Eames_, I reminded myself. Eames, the highly qualified kick-ass detective, not Alex the love of my life.

I forced myself to stay focused. I handed one of the recorders to Carolyn. She was just hanging up her phone.

"The deputy who answered said that the sheriff had gone out to meet someone, and he said it was something about a custody transfer. He's going to call out to the sheriff and get back with me," she told us. I relaxed but only marginally.

"I hope it's quick."

"Eames is fine. They're in a public place, and she's armed," Logan reminded me.

"How long is it good for?" Carolyn asked, getting my concentration back where it belonged – on the recorder.

"It says three hours."

"This should all be over in three hours," she said quietly. I took my knife and made a small slice in the bottom of the inside pocket of her parka. She slipped the recorder into the hole so that it blended with the interior polyester that filled the jacket.

"This feels a little too much like James Bond," Logan said as Carolyn did a test on her recorder. She pulled it out and confirmed the sound quality. It would suffice.

"Makes you want to work with me all the time, doesn't it?" she asked him.

"You're thinking about working together?" I asked in surprise. I was happy to let my mind ponder things other than what Alex - I mean _Eames_ - was doing right now.

"We're considering it," she replied with a smile.

"We're doing it," Logan confirmed.

"Yeah?" she asked him.

"Sweetheart, if you can put up with me, then I'm all for it. I'll give Deakins my notice when we get back."

She went to give him a hug, so I fiddled with my recorder to make sure that it was set. I didn't have as bulky a coat as Carolyn, but the device wasn't much bigger than a credit card, so I slipped it into my wallet.

"Are we good?" I asked, interrupting their moment. I didn't want to be upstairs any longer than the few minutes Alex and I had discussed.

"Yeah, let's head down."

Logan's phone rang just before we left the hotel room. It was Wheeler. He spoke with her quickly and then looked up at me with anxious eyes.

"What is it?" I asked, the alarm building.

"She pulled everything on Quarles and Slater. They went to high school together, here in Cherokee."

"So he lied about not really knowing him well."

"There's more. Slater's wife was murdered five years ago and her killer was never caught."

"And?"

"Six months later, Slater was arrested for murder, but the charges didn't stick. It was dismissed."

"For killing his wife?" Carolyn asked. And then her phone rang.

"For killing _Quarles'_ wife," Logan said. "And get this. Both of the bodies were found in Pisgah National Forest, six months apart."

"They killed each other's wives," Carolyn mumbled as she pulled out her phone. "It's straight out of Hollywood."

"Carolyn Barek," she answered. My brain was off in a hundred different directions. Slater and Quarles had known each other since childhood, both of their wives had been murdered with the bodies dumped in Pisgah...

"Shit," Carolyn said, slamming her phone closed after only listening for a second. "The Haywood sheriff is meeting with the Cherokee marshals on another matter. He's never even heard of Jack Quarles."

I couldn't speak, but I could move. I took off running toward the stairs, not wanting to waste any time with the elevator. _How could I have been so wrong about Quarles? _And more importantly_, how could I have left Alex alone with him?_

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Alex POV **

* * *

I didn't think that Bobby was going to leave the lobby once he saw how close Quarles sat next to me on the couch, but I gave him a look. And Barek shoved him. And he finally got his feet moving. I was proud of him for being able to stick with this altered-version of the plan.

I discreetly adjusted myself on the couch so that there was once again a few inches in between us. I was thanking God for my days in Vice, because not only had it taught me how to spend hours in stilettos but it also provided me with the vital skill of feigning interest in a man who repulsed me. And Quarles repulsed me.

I also knew from the get-go that the plan was a wash. Quarles gave me a wolfish grin and leaned in even closer to whisper in my ear.

"So, did you draw the short straw to get stuck with me?" he asked. I had to force myself not to shudder in disgust as his breath fell across my neck.

"What do you mean?"

"You're supposed to get me to confess? I'm supposed to be overtaken with your subtle, sexy come-ons and then I'll just open up to you?"

"What is it that you need to confess? You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, weren't you?" I encouraged.

"Come on, Detective. I know you didn't miss my slip about the Secret Service. You know I'm involved with the counterfeiting. Your buddy Logan was right. I'm not stupid."

Okay, time to switch tactics. When sweet-talk doesn't work, piss them off.

I forced out a laugh, and said, "You invited Carolyn down here. I'd say that makes you pretty stupid. You had to know she would figure you out."

"Once upon a time, Carolyn was in love with me," he stated boldly. "I thought I could rekindle that emotion."

"You thought you could either convince her to look the other way or what…that she would be so smitten with you that she would forget how to conduct a proper investigation?" I laughed again and shook my head. "I've got a news flash for you, Jack. Carolyn considers you the biggest mistake of her life. She never loved you, and she would never let her emotion override her professionalism."

Well, my plan to piss him off was working great. His face darkened and he put an arm along the back of the couch, grabbing the back of my neck with his hand. He squeezed and pulled me closer to him. I started to pull away, but then I noticed a family come into the lobby. _Damn_.

"We're going to stand up and you're going to walk calmly with me to the stairwell. Got it?"

"I got it."

"And you could smile a little. If you call any attention to us, I'll pull out my gun and start shooting."

For the first time, I started to worry. Everything we knew about Quarles said that he wasn't violent.

Even if he was involved in the counterfeit business, that didn't make him a killer.

_Were we wrong about him_?

"You got to the Haywood sheriff's department pretty fast," I told him, changing strategy again. Up to this point, I hadn't felt any real physical threat from him, but now the mood had changed.

"I didn't go to the damn sheriff's department," he replied as we hustled through the lobby. "And you guys say I'm stupid. James and Buddy were supposed to bring Carolyn to me. _To me_. It shouldn't have been that fucking hard. I guess she didn't forget her Marine Corps training, even after being out for so long."

"So you killed them?" I asked casually as though I didn't care either way. By now we were entering the stairwell.

"Give me your gun," he told me, ignoring my question. I carefully pulled back my jacket to reveal my holster and he promptly pulled out my weapon. He shoved it against my ribcage and pulled me up the stairs.

"James and Buddy?" I asked again. I really needed to know the answer.

"Yeah, I killed them. I dumped them on the reservation. It never hurts to throw a little multi-jurisdictional cog in the wheels of justice."

He pulled out his phone then and made a call.

"I'm at the hotel with them now…yeah, I got the blonde…we're going up to the room to get it…you coming?...okay."

I continued slowly up the stairs, pondering my next move. Quarles was a stone cold killer. It was unusual for Bobby to be wrong, about anything, ever, but this time he was. Quarles had snowed us all over. _Did the others realize it yet? Had Wheeler's background check uncovered anything?_ I wasn't sure. And I wasn't sure what I would do if they went down the elevator while we were going up the stairs.

Quarles had a hold of me by my right arm, which was plastered against his left side. This left his right arm free to hold the gun on me, but it also left my left arm free. I inched my hand toward my jeans pocket as he kept pulling me up the stairs.

* * *

**LOGAN POV **

Goren hit the stairwell door going ninety miles an hour and I was right on his heels. So when he slammed through the door and then pulled up short, I nearly ran him over.

"My, my, aren't we in a hurry?" Quarles asked. He stood at the landing, down one flight from where we stood. Eames was pulled tightly to him and he had a gun jammed into her ribs.

"What do you want, Quarles?" Goren asked.

And damn was he cool under pressure.

They both were.

Eames was standing perfectly still, not breaking a sweat, and Goren had slipped right into his hostage-negotiator voice.

Carolyn eased around me and we let the stairwell door close behind us.

"I want my fifties back."

_What?_

"You want more than that," Goren argued. "You're a police officer. You're holding another cop hostage at gunpoint. And you want a hundred and fifty dollars?"

"I want my evidence back," he clarified. And I knew the big guy knew that. He just wanted to make him say it.

The tape was rolling, after all.

"I can't believe this, Jack," Carolyn said using her sweet-girl voice. She was going to play up the angle of former lover. I wasn't sure if I would be able to stand it. "What are you doing here? This isn't you."

"You don't know shit about me any more, so don't even try."

"I know you're a good man. I know you had a great career and a great life…"

"I was trapped in a horrible marriage that got worse because of you! You seduced me into breaking my vows. My wife never forgave me for that! She made every day a living hell!"

"And so you talked Slater into killing her?" Goren asked. He and Carolyn made a great team with their let's-put-the-gun-down voices, and I decided it would be best if I just kept my mouth shut.

"What? How did you know that?"

"We know everything, Jack," Carolyn continued. "We know about the money. We know about your wife, about Slater's wife, Pete Walker, Scott Hannigan..."

"And we know about James and Buddy," Goren added. "It's gotten out of control, hasn't it? You didn't mean for all of those people to die."

"We were just making money," Quarles said. Eames was still like a stone, and then I noticed that she had something in her left hand. _Hmmm._

"That's right," Carolyn encouraged. "What could it hurt to make a little extra money? You gave this country twenty years of your life, and now you're trying to get by on a measly government pension."

"And making the money wasn't hurting anyone. It's a victimless crime," Goren said.

"What happened? Did your wife find out?"

"My wife's greed is what got me started. She wanted me to pay for cheating on her. She wanted me to pay every day for the rest of my life. Nothing I did was good enough for her, and nothing I bought was expensive enough. She always accused me of comparing her to you, even after so many years."

"So it was your wife's fault," Goren said, jumping on that angle. "It was her fault that you got tied up in this. Hers and Slater's. If not for them, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"If not for _you_, I wouldn't be in this mess," Quarles countered, using his gun to point at Carolyn. "If you had just stayed with me…"

Eames made her move as soon as the gun left her side. She whirled around on Quarles and executed a chop to his Adam's apple. Then she held a pocketknife up to his throat.

"Drop the gun!" she yelled.

_Nice move, Eames_.

Of course, Goren was down all eight stairs in two strides and took over the man-handling. He grabbed Quarles wrist and slammed it against the wall until he dropped the gun. Carolyn and I both drew our weapons on him as Goren picked up the gun and gave it back to Eames.

"You okay?" he asked her. She gave him that smile, the one she saves just for him. She nodded imperceptibly and he looked at her for another brief moment before turning back to Quarles, who was now held against the wall by Goren's considerable bulk.

"You're never going to get away with this. Slater'll kill all of you," Quarles spat as Goren stepped back and spun him around. He shoved his face into the wall and held out his hand into which Eames quickly placed her handcuffs.

Seamless, those two. It was a thing of beauty to watch.

"Nice touch with the pocketknife," I told her, completely ignoring Quarles. "Did you pick that up at Wal-mart?" She smirked at me and shrugged.

"We need to get back upstairs. I think Slater's on his way over here," she told us. "Jack called him just a couple of minutes ago."

"He's crazier than I am, and he wants his damn money back," Quarles shouted. I figured that Slater must have done a bang-up clean-up job at the casino, because they seemed to think that getting back those three bills was going to be the answer to everything.

"He'll kill all of you to get it," Quarles continued.

"You need to shut the fuck up," I said slowly. Goren turned him back around, so I got up in his face and jammed my finger into his chest.

"If I hear one more word out of your lying, filthy mouth, I won't be able to help myself. I'll have to beat the ever-loving shit out of you."

Quarles gave me a grin and then moved his eyes to Carolyn, who was walking ahead of us up the stairs. He focused in on her ass and then deliberately licked his lips. My tenuous hold on my temper finally snapped.

I grabbed his elbow and threw him forward onto the stairs. With his hands cuffed behind him, he couldn't catch himself, so his face landed hard against the concrete. I kicked him a couple of times and then I felt Goren's hand on my arm.

"Let him up," he said quietly. The cloud of anger cleared somewhat and I reached down to pull the man back to his feet. He had blood coming from his nose and mouth, but even that didn't give me enough satisfaction. I leaned close to him and whispered in his ear.

"And if you even _look_ at my wife again, you'll just be one more body for them to find out in Pisgah."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We had plenty of evidence on Quarles, and now all we needed was to get Slater to implicate himself as well.

Quarles was lucky that I had pulled Logan off of him in the stairwell. In fact, he was lucky that I hadn't started in on him, too. When I saw him standing there holding a gun on Alex, I wanted to just blow his damn head off. But then I saw her face. And she was calm. I knew she had her pocketknife in her hand, and I knew I could get the bastard talking.

I never used to feel such powerful urges of violence before. In the old days, like maybe a few weeks ago, I would've blamed it on my parentage. This new found penchant for aggression, I mean. But now I recognized it for what it was. Just a fierce protective response to Alex. I only felt those urges when someone threatened her. And she had convinced me that it was a normal side-effect of being in love, so I was fine with it as long as I was able to control it.

I let Logan drag Quarles up the stairs and into the hall. Carolyn and Alex were in front of them and I was behind.

"We need to get Slater talking," I told the others. "He's got a huge ego, and I think he'll want to show off."

"We definitely don't want to get into a gunfight. I've seen too many kids around this hotel."

"If the guns come out, we'll have to get creative," I agreed. I wanted to hurry up and get to our room so we could be ready for Slater.

But then the elevator pinged, things went into slow motion.

Slater stepped off the elevator with the huge security guard right behind him. A third man, equally large, followed them both out into the hall. All of them were armed.

Alex and Carolyn pulled their weapons. Logan threw Quarles face first into the wall and held him in place with one hand while pulling his gun with his other. I got mine out as well, but I tried to get my mind working. We didn't want a damn shootout. We wanted a confession.

"Oh, hey there Dick," Logan said in his wiseass tone. Slater shifted his gun so that it was pointed at him, which was probably Mike's goal since it had originally been pointed at Carolyn.

"I thought you had this shit under control, Jack," Slater said to Quarles.

"Jack can't talk right now," Logan continued, shoving Quarles' face harder into the wall. "If you want to leave a message…"

"Why don't we all put our guns away and go into the room," I suggested. "We can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. I want the fifties that you took from Walker's room."

"The counterfeiting is going to be the least of your worries," Alex spoke up. "We know about the murders. It's over."

"Murders? I don't know anything about that," he replied slickly. "You boys know anything about any murders?" he asked, turning to his sidekicks. Both men smiled and shook their heads.

"Hey, I remember you," Carolyn said smoothly, nodding her head at the big guard from the casino. "I bet you still have a bruise on your throat, don't you?"

"That's the chick that slammed you into the wall?" the other guy asked his associate. "She's like, this big." He laughed and held his hand out at chest-level in reference to Carolyn's height.

"You think you could do better?" she challenged.

"Carolyn," Mike warned.

"No, I want to see if he-man over here can do better. Put the gun away and bring it on."

I didn't know what the hell her plan was, but I was the one who had suggested creativity. And now the tension in the hall had eased quite a bit and itchy trigger fingers were not such a threat.

"I'll even sweeten the deal," she continued. "If I kick his ass, you confess. If he takes me out, we'll give you back the fifties."

"Barek," Logan said, this time a little sharper. He clearly didn't like the offer.

"Jack, I can see why you were so obsessed with her. I love a woman with attitude," Slater said with a grin. He put his gun down by his side.

"But see, that wouldn't be a fair deal, because I have nothing to confess."

"Then why do you want the fifties back?" I asked.

"What do you care? None of you has any jurisdiction here anyway. A couple of New York cops and a couple of nobodies. I could confess to everything and you can't do a damn thing about it."

"You're right. But the Secret Service will care," Carolyn told him. "And I called them about twenty minutes ago. So the way I see it, you can wait around in a standoff until they get here and they'll haul your pretty-boy ass to prison. Or you can take me up on my offer."

I knew Carolyn hadn't called the Secret Service, but damn was she a good liar. Slater visibly paled at the mention of prison.

"I could just shoot you all right now."

"You could, but you'll never make it out alive. Four guns on three, and we'll all aim for you first," Alex told him.

"I'm serious," Carolyn said. "No catch. He kicks my ass, you get your fifties. I figure you've got about five minutes before this place is full of suits."

Slater looked Barek over carefully and then jerked his head to the side.

"Take her out, Wally."

"Wally? That's your name?" Carolyn asked with a laugh as she put her weapon back in its holster. She looked over her shoulder and gave me a wink. "I bet you got your ass kicked on a regular basis. This will be old hat for you."

"I'm going to hate to mess up such a pretty face," he retorted as he approached her in the middle of the hall.

As for me, I was stunned. We were turning the hotel into a damn UFC arena. But Carolyn was smart, and I trusted her. And she had gotten all of the men to quit pointing guns at us. Logan was tied up holding onto Quarles, so if it turned into an all-out brawl, it looked like it was going to be up to me and Alex.

Carolyn took her time taking off her coat. It was a good move because that way the recorder wouldn't get damaged. It also looked like it was making Wally nervous. Even thugs like Wally probably didn't make a habit out of hitting women.

She finally stepped up to him, toe to toe. She barely came to his chest.

"You ready?" she asked. Wally looked at Slater, and as he turned his head back toward Carolyn, she went at him. It was over almost before it began.

A jab to the throat sent him backwards a step and an uppercut to the nose bent him over. She then grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled her knee up repeatedly into his face. A minute later, she let him go and he fell to the floor.

As she stood up and took a breath, the other body guard made a lunge toward Carolyn. Alex, who was closest to him, intercepted him by taking his foot out from under him and he went sprawling. She dove on him and held him in place with a knee to his back and a gun to his head.

Slater raised his gun, but had a moment of hesitation, not sure which woman to shoot. In that split second, I aimed for his shoulder and fired off a round. It caught him in his shooting arm and spun him backwards into the wall. I threw myself at him and pinned him to the wall. He dropped his gun without much of a fight.

"You're going down for this, Dick," Carolyn said, picking up Logan's usage of the nickname. "You're involved in at least six murders and an elaborate counterfeiting scam."

"You can't prove a thing."

"Oh, but we can," Alex said. "Your buddy Jack confessed to everything. And it's all on tape."

Wally was still groaning and bleeding on the floor, but he spoke up.

"It was all Slater's idea. We didn't want to kill them boys," he moaned. The other guard piped in.

"Yeah, it was Slater. He made us take Pete out to Pisgah, and then when we couldn't find the money he'd stolen, we had to take care of his roommate, too."

"Shut the fuck up, you idiots!" Slater yelled.

"Too late," I whispered, still holding him flat against the wall. "We didn't have you for any of the murders, but we do now."

"I'll fucking kill you guys," Slater told his guards.

"A good looking guy like you might want to keep them as friends," Logan said. "You guys can share a cell in federal pound-me-in-the-ass prison. Maybe they can protect your virtue."

"I think I should probably call the Secret Service now," Carolyn said. She had managed to sit Wally up against the wall and she held her gun on him with one hand while pulling out her phone with the other.

"And the Cherokee marshals," Alex added. "They'll be interested to hear how Jack dumped a couple of bodies onto their land earlier today."

We made a few calls, and then managed to get all of the men into my hotel room. Slater was bleeding quite a bit, so Alex jammed a hotel towel on his wound and wrapped her belt around it to hold it in place. Carolyn gave Wally a bag of ice for his face while Logan teased him mercilessly for getting his ass kicked by a woman.

Due to their close proximity, we had also called the Haywood County Sheriff's Department. They arrived after about twenty minutes, and I was happy to hand over the four men. I gave them one of the recorders. I was going to save the other for the Secret Service, along with the fifty dollar bills.

As soon as they left the room, my phone rang. It was Ross. I answered, and he just started talking.

"I got a call from a Sheriff Barger. He said he wanted to confirm the identity of two of my officers."

"Yes sir." _Was that a question_?

"He said you had called him to pick up four men on murder charges."

"Yes sir."

"Is there anything you want to add to that?"

"No sir."

"So I guess you were able to rescue Carolyn?"

At that, I had to laugh.

"No sir. She rescued herself."

"Can I expect you and Eames back in the office on Monday?" I closed my eyes and ran my hand over my face. Going back in the office was about the last thing I wanted to do. And that was funny, because a few months ago it was all I ever wanted to do.

"Yes sir. We'll be there."

I disconnected and tossed my phone on the dresser. Alex raised her eyebrow at me.

"He just wanted to make sure we'll be at work on Monday."

"Nice to know he's so concerned," Logan commented. Alex came over to me and wrapped her arms around me.

"Maybe we'll call in sick."

"That'll go over well," I replied.

"I don't think I care. Do you?"

"Not one damn bit."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Alex POV**

* * *

Since we were pretty much smack in the middle of nowhere, it took the Secret Service agents nearly two hours to arrive. We handed over the fake bills and the second recorder, and then spent another hour going over our statements.

While we waited for them to arrive, we had packed up our rooms and got ready to catch a flight home. There was a late flight out of Asheville that we could probably make if we didn't get held up for too long.

And we didn't. By six o'clock, we left the hotel and I drove like a fiend to the Asheville airport. We got there by seven and caught the eight-fifteen to JFK.

However, despite all of our planning, we didn't count on the ice storm in Washington, D.C. And why was that relevant? Because if you fly out of Asheville, you have to connect somewhere, and our connection was Dulles International.

So, that is how we found ourselves sitting in an airport bar at ten-thirty at night. Our connection was tentatively scheduled for midnight.

Considering that it had been quite an eventful forty-eight hours, it was a given that we all ordered shots. It's not like we were going to be driving anywhere.

One round turned into two, and then three.

"I can't believe I was so wrong about Jack Quarles," Bobby said. I knew it had been bothering him, so I was glad he brought it up. And I was happy to see that he didn't look like he was beating himself up about it.

"The guy was good," Logan admitted. "He had us all fooled. I mean, I knew something was off about him, but I just didn't think he was into all of that."

"I'm just sorry about this whole thing, guys," Carolyn said, the alcohol loosening her tongue. She leaned casually into Mike, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm not sorry. I'm glad we got involved. They had quite the racket going on down there. At least six murders, hundreds of thousands of dollars in forged bills…" Bobby told her.

I appreciated what he was trying for, but I also knew what Carolyn meant. She was a little embarrassed about her skeletons being pulled from the closet. If we hadn't come along, we would've never known about her affair with a married man.

"We've all got it, Carolyn," I told her quietly. She looked at me and gave me an appreciative smile. Mike and Bobby looked at each other.

"All got what?" Logan asked.

"Dirty laundry. Things that we've done that we'd rather keep secret. Things we're not proud of," I clarified. I looked pointedly at Mike and I saw the light click on.

"I once slept with the department shrink," Mike said suddenly. And I felt a huge wave of affection for him. That was just the sweetest thing ever, bringing up something he was embarrassed about just to make Carolyn feel better.

"You did?" Bobby asked. I caught his look. I could only imagine that he couldn't think of anyone he would be less attracted to than a shrink. Especially the department ones. They just made him nervous.

"It was either that or talk to her, and well, I'm not much of a talker."

"You did it to get out of therapy?" I asked, unable to stop the laugh.

"Hey, it worked," he said, leaning in to talk in a low tone. "She gave me a clean bill of mental health every time."

"I always wondered why psych kept clearing you," Carolyn joked.

"Did you have to keep sleeping with her?" Bobby asked, still mystified by Logan's nonchalance.

"Nah, just the first couple of times."

"Can I get y'all another round?" the waitress interrupted.

"Absolutely," I said before the others could respond.

I settled against Bobby's side and enjoyed the feeling of his arm around my shoulders. It had been an exhausting couple of days, but now we were done being Goren and Eames until Monday. At least Monday. I was still strongly considering taking a sick day.

The waitress came back with our drinks and then left us alone again. I picked up the fresh drink glass in one hand and used my other to trace random patterns on Bobby's thigh.

"We can't get so drunk that we miss our flight," Carolyn said, but she picked up her glass, too. It was nice to be able to blow off a little steam after such an emotional roller coaster.

"So we'll catch the next one," I said in a moment of rare spontaneity.

"What's gotten into you?" Bobby asked me curiously, but he smiled and his fingers joined with mine on his leg.

"It just feels good to relax," I told him. And it did. Between the councilman case, and now this trip it felt like forever since I could completely relax.

"So what about you, Goren?" Logan asked. "What's your dirty secret?"

"I…um…it's just…"

"I slept with one of my professors in college," I blurted out. I knew Bobby was uncomfortable sharing secrets, so I decided to rescue him for the moment and give him a chance to come up with something.

Logan almost spit out his drink, but he ending up just coughing and sputtering for a minute.

"To get a better grade?" Logan clarified once he had himself under control.

"No! Just because I thought he was cute. And it was a challenge. I wanted to see if I could get him."

"And you did."

"I did. But then he offered to give me a better grade and I was so mortified by the possible implications that I ended up dropping the class."

"Wow, sex in college. That's pretty racy stuff, Eames," Mike joked. I kicked him under the table.

To me, it was pretty racy. I didn't normally do things like that, and I had never tried to seduce someone just for the sake of the power rush.

"Shut up, Mike," Carolyn said, coming to my rescue.

"Goren?" Logan encouraged. Bobby remained silent.

"Thank you," Carolyn said. "I really appreciate what you're trying to do here. But you don't have to do that."

"Oh yes he does," Logan countered. "It's too late now. Me and Eames have shared. And they've turned in to sex confessions, so ante up, Goren."

Bobby took a swig from his glass and then set it down and gave me a look.

"Me and Alex had sex in the parking garage, and we almost got caught by Ross," he admitted quietly.

"Bobby! It's supposed to be something old, not something current!" I shouted as the red crept up my face. Talking about things that happened twenty years ago was like talking about someone else. This had just happened two weeks ago.

Logan burst out laughing, causing the few other patrons in the bar to give us looks. Carolyn shook her head and patted Mike on the leg, trying to get him to settle down.

"The garage at 1PP?" he asked incredulously. I dropped my head into my hands.

"Oh my God, I cannot believe you told them that."

"I don't have any old scandalous stories," he insisted. "I've only become immoral since I hooked up with you." He gave me a grin that I couldn't resist. He was just too sexy. And then I looked at Carolyn and saw that the sadness had left her. She had moved on from being upset about Jack Quarles, at least for now.

"Ross almost caught you guys?" she asked with a sly smile. And so I figured what the hell? If you can't share with your friends, who are you going to share with? I gave Bobby a nod.

"It was almost midnight when we left the office…" Bobby began, and then he recounted the story. I have never laughed so hard in my life.

* * *

I slept on the flight from D.C. to New York. We said our goodbyes to Mike and Carolyn out by the taxi line and then we grabbed a cab and headed for home. I was exhausted and bordering on hungover. I dozed again in the car until Bobby nudged me.

"We're home," he whispered. I followed him out of the cab and into the building. When we got to his apartment, there was a box outside his door. Bobby bent down and picked it up.

"Please tell me that thing is not ticking," I said. It was always a possibility with us.

"I don't hear anything," he said after listening for a second. We took it inside and he put it on the table while I dumped my things in the foyer. I didn't have the energy to put anything where it belonged. I wandered through the apartment and turned on a couple of lamps.

"I am going to sleep for the next twenty-four hours straight," I said. "And I am definitely calling in sick. Ross can go to hell."

Bobby didn't answer, so I went back into the kitchen. He had opened the box.

"Who's it from?"

"A friend," he replied mysteriously. He sat down in a chair and looked up at me with a tired grin.

"What is it?"

"Come here," he told me. He patted his lap and I quickly sat down. He wrapped his arms around my waist while I pulled the box to me. I opened the flaps and sucked in a breath.

"Where did you…" my voice cracked, and I didn't even try to finish the sentence. The box was full of pictures, copies of the ones that Erica had given me, the ones that had been lost in my apartment fire.

"I talked to Erica. Since everything is digital now, they don't get rid of anything. She was able to go through and make copies of the photos."

I turned to him and hugged him tightly. He as just the sweetest man ever, to even think about doing something like that.

"How long do I owe her coffee?" I asked in an effort to maintain levity.

"Oh, you don't owe her anything. I slept with her." I pulled back from him in time to see the huge grin that broke across his face.

"You'd better be kidding me," I warned, although I was grinning, too.

"You know I am," he said, suddenly serious. He pushed the box out of the way and then stood up and took me with him, holding me up and then setting me on the table.

"You've ruined me for any other woman. So it looks like you're stuck with me," he rumbled as he started removing my shoes.

"I can think of worse fates."

"Yeah?" he murmured as he took off my socks. He spent a moment massaging each foot and then he worked his hands up my legs to unfasten my pants.

"Oh yeah," I said a little breathlessly. It was amazing how quickly I forgot about being tired. "You told me you love me in a dozen languages. You don't know the meaning of a quickie. You probably committed to a year's worth of coffee to replace my pictures…I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one in this outfit."

"So, I'm a better catch than your professor?" He slid my pants down my legs and then massaged my calves, my thighs. I worked hard to focus on his words.

"I wondered if you were going to come back to that," I replied. I put my head back on the table and closed my eyes, just wanting to enjoy the feeling.

"Uh uh," he whispered. "Open your eyes." I did as he asked and found him staring straight at me. The intensity was almost overwhelming. "I've been waiting to do this for…well, forever."

"We just did this two days ago," I reminded him.

"It's not enough. It's never enough." By this time, he had me completely naked, but he was still fully dressed.

"I think you have some catching up to do," I told him, tugging on his shirt. "Hurry up before Ross or Logan call."

"I thought there was a rule about not mentioning that name when we're having sex," he teased as he stripped down to nothing. I chose to let that topic completely drop, especially since he picked that moment to lean over me, with an arm on either side of my head and kiss me senseless. I felt the cold hard wood of the table on my back and I had to ask.

"What is it with you and places other than your bed?"

"You don't like being adventurous?"

"I do. I'm just curious."

"Beds are for ordinary people. There is not one thing ordinary about you. Doing it in different places means that I can remember distinctly each time in my mind rather than having them all run together."

The man had a gift with words. There was a time when it used to drive me a little crazy. Now it drove me a lot crazy but in a different way. A good way. He also brought out the exhibitionist in me.

"Fire escape," I said as he kissed my neck and rubbed his scruffy beard across my sensitive skin.

"What?"

"Let's go out on the fire escape."

"It's November," he countered, but I could tell he was intrigued. I quirked an eyebrow at him as a challenge. He promptly picked me up and headed for the kitchen window.

We climbed out and I shivered immediately. It was about three o'clock in the morning in New York in the winter. But the moon was full and the air was crisp and the noise of the city was a pleasant background.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked. I reached for his shoulder and he took the hint and picked me up. I wrapped my legs around him and he pushed me against the rough brick wall.

"You're what I want," I told him as he drove up into me.

"Are you sure?" he asked, setting a frantic pace. His hands and mouth were everywhere at once and the sensations were making it impossible for me to think. I couldn't remember a time when I ever wanted anyone more. Not some long-ago professor, not Joe, no one.

"Are you sure?" he asked again when words failed me.

"I've never been more sure of anything."

* * *

"Vous êtes la femme la plus belle au monde," Bobby said softly when we finally settled together in the bed. I knew that one. It was one of his favorites, so I had looked it up. _You are the most beautiful woman in the world. _He wrapped his arms around me and ran his fingers through my hair.

"I'm serious about calling in sick on Monday," I murmured. "In fact, I might call in sick all week."

"I think we need to tell Ross that we're not dating anymore."

"What?"

"Do you consider us to be dating?" he asked me earnestly. My mind tossed about all the possible avenues down which his brain may be headed.

"No. I consider us married." I felt him relax marginally, although I hadn't realized he'd been tense.

"Me, too. So it wouldn't be lying if we tell Ross that we're not dating anymore. I don't like him having something over us."

"I think that's a great idea. We'll tell him first thing."

"Tuesday," he clarified. I smiled, knowing he was going to call in sick with me.

"Right. First thing Tuesday."

**The End**


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